Chapter 5

When Amelia opened her eyes the next morning, the space beside her in bed was already cold.

She turned her head to look at the nightstand clock. It was just past seven in the morning. A small, handwritten sticky note was tucked under her phone: 'Gone for an early run before the market opens. See you at breakfast. Love, Adrian.'

Amelia sat up slowly, resting her head against the headboard. The morning sunlight was just beginning to spill through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the quiet bedroom. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering uneasy feeling from the night before.

"He was just tired, she told herself firmly. It was a late work call. You're just making a mountain out of a molehill."

Determined to start the day fresh and be a good wife, Amelia pulled back the duvet and got out of bed. She tied her robe around her waist and decided to gather Adrian's laundry before heading downstairs to start breakfast.

She walked over to the armchair in the corner of the room where Adrian had carelessly tossed his clothes the night before. His dress shirt and pants were draped over the armrest, and his dark suit coat hung over the back.

Amelia picked up the suit coat. Out of habit, she reached into the front pockets to make sure he hadn't left his wallet, keys, or any loose cufflinks inside before taking it down to the laundry room.

Her fingers brushed against a small slip of paper in the right breast pocket.

She pulled it out. It was a folded, itemized receipt from L'Orangerie.

Amelia paused, staring down at the paper in her hand. A sudden stillness settled over the room.

Adrian had told her last night that he had stopped by the restaurant for a quick, exhausting meeting with a stubborn investor. But as her eyes scanned the crisp black text on the receipt, her chest grew heavy.

The receipt didn't show a quick business coffee or a simple dinner.

It listed a bottle of high-end vintage champagne, fresh oysters, two dessert platters, and an expensive main course meal meant for an intimate, two-person dining experience. The total came to over twelve hundred dollars, stamped at nine-fifteen PM.

Amelia’s fingers began to tremble slightly. Why would a mere investor insist on expensive champagne and shared desserts during a tense contract negotiation?

She slowly turned the suit coat over in her hands, her heart beginning to thump louder against her ribs. As the fabric shifted under the morning light, her eyes caught something near the inner collar—right near the lapel where a person’s face would rest during a close embrace.

Was a faint, distinct smudge of red lipstick was pressed into the fine grey fabric.

Amelia stopped breathing.

She stared at the red mark. She didn't wear red lipstick; she always preferred soft, neutral glosses because Adrian used to say he liked her natural look best but the color on the collar was a sharp, striking crimson.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs shattered the heavy silence in the bedroom.

Heavy, steady footsteps echoed up the stairs, followed by the sound of Adrian humming a quiet tune. A moment later, the bedroom door pushed open, and Adrian walked in, wearing his dark workout clothes and a towel draped around his neck. He looked refreshed, his skin glowing with beads of sweat from his run.

"Morning, babe," Adrian said with a warm smile, wiping his forehead with the towel. "You're up early."

Amelia stayed standing beside the armchair. She didn't raise her voice, and she didn't throw the coat at him. She simply held the coat in her left hand and lifted the paper receipt with her right.

"Adrian," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "What is this?"

Adrian stopped in his tracks, looking at the receipt in her hand, and then at the grey suit coat.

For a split second, his eyes narrowed, but there was no panic in his expression. In fact, he didn't even flinch. Instead, a calm, almost fond smile spread across his face, as if he was looking at a child who had gotten confused by a simple puzzle.

He set his water bottle down on the dresser, walked over to her, and took the coat gently out of her hands.

"Amelia," he said with a soft, affectionate sigh, pulling her into a loose embrace and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Are you getting yourself worked up over expense receipts again?"

"It's a twelve-hundred-dollar receipt for champagne and desserts, Adrian," Amelia said, her eyes fixed on his. "And there's red lipstick on your collar. Are you cheating on me?"

Adrian didn't pull away. He looked down at the collar, touched the red mark with his thumb, and let out a short, airy laugh.

"Babe, I told you last night, the investor himself couldn't make it so he brought in his associate," Adrian explained smoothly, his voice calm, steady, and completely unbothered. "The associate was a woman, and she was the one ordering all the expensive items on the company tab. What was I supposed to do? Say no to an investor's guest and ruin a multi-million-dollar deal over a bottle of wine?"

He squeezed her waist gently, leaning down so his forehead rested against hers.

"And as for the lipstick? When we stood up from the table, she gave me that standard European double-cheek kiss to say goodbye. It must have brushed my collar." He shook his head softly, looking into her eyes with pure patience. "Amelia, you know how these corporate dinners go. People play up the charm when they want money."

His explanation was so logical, so relaxed, and delivered with so much confidence that Amelia felt the tight knot in her chest begin to slip away once again.

"You really expect me to believe that?" she asked, though the strength in her voice was already fading.

"I expect you to trust your husband," Adrian whispered, brushing his lips against her temple. "You know I only have eyes for you. You're the only woman l love, l worked sixteen-hour days for eight years to build this life for us. Don't let silly doubts and Natalie's crazy stories ruin what we have."

He cupped her face in his warm hands, looking down at her with an expression that made Amelia's heart flutter. Why did she even doubt him, Adrian would never do something like this to her. Not after everything they've been through and all the sacrifices she made for him.

"Now, put the coat down, drop the laundry, and let's go downstairs. My mom and Claire are already down there, and you know how my mother gets if breakfast is late."

Amelia looked into his clear, warm eyes for a long second. She forced a small smile to her lips and nodded softly, convincing herself that she was just being paranoid.

"Okay," she murmured. "Let's go downstairs."