2. Gabby’s Life Lot More Intresting Now

The morning breeze swept gently across the vast lawn. Gabby sat in a rattan chair, her long legs stretched out lazily, the thin peignoir fluttering slightly as the wind passed. In her hand, her toast was nearly finished, and the glass of orange juice on the table was half-empty.

The sliding glass door opened with a soft click. Adryan appeared, walking steadily, his expression calm… too calm for someone who had nearly exploded in the dining room moments ago.

Gabby glanced at him. “Here? Aren’t you worried about missing your meeting?” she teased lightly.

Adryan approached, standing in front of her with both hands in his pockets. His gaze was piercing, but Gabby just smiled faintly.

“You’ve changed,” Adryan finally said. His voice was flat but carried an unspoken demand.

Gabby raised an eyebrow. “Changed? You mean… prettier? Thanks.”

“Gabriella.” His tone dropped an octave.

“Oh my God, chill, Adryan. You sound like you’re collecting a debt,” Gabby replied, nibbling on the tip of her toast.

Adryan leaned forward, resting his hands on the back of Gabby’s chair so they were only a few inches apart. “I’m serious.”

Gabby stared at his face, so close. Her heart fluttered for a moment… but she quickly regained control. “If you’re serious, sit down. Don’t hover like you’re about to… do push-ups on top of me.”

Adryan took a deep breath and finally sat in the chair across from her. He studied Gabby for a long moment, as if trying to read her mind. His gaze drifted briefly to the cleavage revealed by her peignoir before snapping back up with effort. His jaw tightened. With one harsh exhale, he leaned back and seated himself properly. The silence between them felt heavier than before.

“You’re not the Gabriella I knew,” he repeated, this time more like an accusation.

“How well did you really know me?” Gabby replied casually, playing with her glass of juice. “We hardly talked before this. You were busy, I was busy.”

“That’s no excuse for—” Adryan stopped, his eyes scanning her again. “For dressing like that in front of the household staff.”

Gabby laughed softly. “Oh my God, just a thin piece of fabric can make your ears burn like this? Adryan, the staff here have seen worse on TV dramas.”

“This isn’t a drama, Gabriella. This is my house.”

“Our house,” Gabby corrected quickly. “If it’s only your house, then I’m just a tenant? Need to pay rent, is that it?”

Adryan exhaled sharply. “Are you trying to cause trouble?”

Gabby blinked innocently. “Trouble? No… I’m just on a croissant hunt. Seen any around?”

Adryan rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wondered silently: ‘Is this really Gabriella changing, or just another trick to get my attention? Why does her fake casualness make me… stop. Don’t get hooked.’

Gabby stood, carrying her glass of juice. “Relax, Adryan. I won’t embarrass you. As long as…” She glanced at him with a mischievous smile. “…you don’t disappoint me either.”

As she passed him, Adryan’s hand shot out like lightning, gripping her wrist. His hold was firm, hot, sending little electric shocks through her body. He pulled her gently until her back nearly pressed against his chest.

“What game are you playing, Gabby?” Adryan whispered right in her ear, his voice dangerous.

“It’s not about the fabric, Gabby. It’s about… image.”

Gabby sighed dramatically. “Image, image. Everyone always cares about image. Isn’t it exhausting, living just to look good in front of people?” She looked straight at Adryan this time, serious. “I just want to live comfortably. Enjoy breakfast. Is that so wrong?”

Adryan studied her for a long moment. No words came. He realized, for the first time in this conversation, Gabby had won.

Gabby smiled faintly, then walked away, leaving a faint trace of perfume that, for some reason, lingered in Adryan’s mind longer than it should have.

Adryan sat silently, rubbing his temple, staring blankly into the garden.

Why does she feel… not like the Gabriella I knew? Or… maybe I never really knew her at all.

For the first time in 3 years, Adryan felt… confused. And one question slipped into his mind:

Why does she keep calling me Adryan… and not Ryan

---

Warm steam filled the marble-styled bathroom. Gabby leaned back in the bathtub, eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips. Soap bubbles floated on the surface of the water, while a glass of cold orange juice sat neatly on the small table beside her.

“Ah… life is good,” she murmured, lifting her long, pale legs into the water, gazing at her reflection. “Why didn’t I just relax like this all along?”

Since waking up that morning, her mind felt frozen at twenty. All she remembered were college days, holiday plans with friends, and simple dreams of working abroad. No memories of this grand house, no memories of being married to Adryan, and certainly nothing about politics.

Amnesia? Gabby paused. Maybe… that was a good idea. She nodded slowly. Yeah. Probably… so.

Every time she tried to recall her parents’ faces, her heart thumped strangely. She furrowed her brows and brushed the thought away.

She know the world had already changed. Her parents had died twelve years ago in an accident. The family that raising her was no longer Mom and Dad, but her uncle and aunt—the HLM Media, a family who controlled public opinion through the media. They forced Gabby to maintain appearances, to obey unreasonable rules, and punished her if she slipped up.

But Gabby now? She had returned to being a twenty-something girl who just wanted to enjoy life.

A smile spread across her face. “Well, if I have a rich husband now… why not take advantage a little?”

The clock read 9:40 a.m. Only one hour and twenty minutes before the big event. Yet Gabby didn’t look panicked at all. She felt like an eighteen-year-old college student enjoying a day off, not the wife of a parliament member who needed to be flawless in front of hundreds of officials and media personnel.

Outside, the sound of shoes clicking on the floor approached, sharp and orderly. The bathroom door was knocked on forcefully.

“Gabriella!” Adryan’s voice sounded firm. “Don’t tell me you’re still—”

Screech! The door opened, revealing Adryan in a neatly pressed gray suit. His face was like carved marble, about to crack from emotion.

Gabby turned slowly, a faint smile on her lips. “Hello, Husband.”

Adryan exhaled heavily. “Hello? We have an important event in an hour, and you’re still… soaking?”

“I need to relax before facing a crowd,” Gabby replied casually, blowing the foam from her hands. “Besides, if I get stressed, my face will look old on camera. You want an old-looking wife, right?”

Adryan closed his eyes, trying not to yell. “This isn’t a gala dinner you can stroll into late like a celebrity. This is a government event, Gabby! Ministers, press, cameras everywhere!”

Gabby raised an eyebrow. “So what? I’m the parliament member’s wife. All the cameras will focus on me anyway, not you.”

Adryan stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “God, why did I agree to marry you?”

Gabby pretended to ponder. “Because I’m beautiful?”

Adryan leaned closer, eyes sharp. “Because your parents own the biggest media empire in the country,” he replied coldly.

For a split second, Gabby’s smile almost faded. But she held it, replacing it with a soft laugh. “Wow, you’re really romantic,” she teased. She then stood, water cascading off her foam-covered body, making Adryan instinctively turn his face away with a low growl.

“Ten minutes, Gabby. If you’re not ready, I’m leaving,” Adryan said firmly, then turned to leave.

10:15 a.m.

Gabby sat at the vanity, her hair half-dried. Her pastel day dress hung on a hanger, waiting to be worn. The thin peignoir still wrapped her as she applied lipstick casually.

“Why rush? Someone like me is always the star at events like this,” she murmured, looking at her reflection. In her mind, everything felt like a game. She still felt like a college student heading to a campus event, not a 30-year-old woman married for five years.

Outside, Adryan’s voice called again. “Gabby! The car’s ready!”

“Okeee!” Gabby called back lightly.

Ten minutes passed, yet Gabby hadn’t left. The bathroom door opened again, this time without knocking. Adryan stepped in, tense.

“Gabby, you’re still—” He froze, seeing his wife with wet hair cascading over her shoulders, the thin peignoir clinging to her. “Oh… wow.”

Gabby turned casually. “What? I’m getting ready.”

“This isn’t ‘getting ready’! Your hair is still wet.” Adryan huffed, then suddenly grabbed the hair dryer from the vanity. “Sit still.”

Gabby blinked. “Eh? What are you doing?”

“If I let you dry it yourself, we’ll leave tomorrow,” Adryan muttered, plugging in the dryer. The machine hummed, hot air blowing through Gabby’s hair.

Gabby chuckled. “Wow… a parliament member can also be a hairstylist. Multi-talented.”

“Quiet,” Adryan snapped, focused on drying her hair. But his large hands, carefully separating strands, were gentle, not rough. The warmth and proximity allowed Gabby to catch a hint of his masculine cologne.

“Hmm…” Gabby murmured, watching their reflection in the mirror. “You know… if you didn’t keep scolding me, you could actually look sweet.”

Adryan glanced briefly through the mirror. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” Gabby asked innocently, a faint smile on her lips.

A few minutes later, Gabby’s hair was half-dry, voluminous and beautiful. Adryan set the dryer down with a long exhale. “Done. Now get dressed. Five minutes.”

Gabby stood, laughing softly. “Okay, Mr. Parliament. But seriously, you have a talent for hair styling.”

Adryan just stared at her, as if holding back something he didn’t want to say.

Gabby grabbed her dress, slipping it on with the help of the loyal house staff. The dress was elegant, short-sleeved, A-line, simple but expensive. A small socialite hat added a classy touch.

As she stepped out of the bedroom, Adryan waited in the living room. His face tense, but his eyes softened slightly when he saw Gabby.

“Hmm… nice,” he murmured.

Gabby smiled widely. “Of course. I never fail at looking good.” She walked gracefully, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor.

The car drove toward Heritage Hotel, where the launch of the National Digital Education Program was taking place. Large banners with the government logo were set up outside, journalists and photographers gathering.

Gabby sat in the passenger seat, her satin dress hugging her body. Her hair tied low, small earrings swaying with every turn.

Adryan glanced briefly while keeping his focus on the road. Hands steady on the wheel, navy tie and suit perfectly in place, he looked like he had stepped out of a magazine spread.

Silence enveloped the car for a moment. Then Gabby spoke softly, teasing:

“Adryan…”

“No lectures this time?” she continued flatly. Gabby already knew that Adryan having a hobby to scold and lectures her.

“Just choosing my topic,” Adryan replied. “But it seems you’re ready.”

Gabby smiled faintly. “Wow.”

Adryan glanced briefly down, noticing her chest subtly accentuated by her tight outfit. Gabby had been teasing him all morning—from the thin nightgown to this fitted dress. He quickly looked away, but Gabby caught it.

“What? Something wrong with my outfit?” she tilted to see her reflection in the rearview mirror, the scent of fresh perfume mingling with a hint of rose filling the cabin.

“Adryan,” she said.

He glanced at her. “Hmm?”

“If I embarrass you later… will you divorce me?” she asked with a faint, playful smile, testing him.

Adryan studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Don’t even try, Gabby,” he replied coldly. Yet somehow, the words only made Gabby want to laugh.

Adryan exhaled deeply, jaw tightening. “Gabby. Can you… for once, not make my head explode before an important event?”

Gabby chuckled softly, staring straight ahead. “I’m not doing anything. You’re just too quick to heat up.”

The event hadn’t even started yet, but Gabby knew one thing: her life had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.