Chapter 2

My eyes fluttered open, and a yawn slipped out of my lips. I turned my head to the side, reading the digital clock's numbers and I breathed. 

5:47am 

My body protested the early hour, but the day ahead demanded an early start. 

Beside me, Jaime lay sprawled across Egyptian cotton sheets, one arm flung over his eyes, chest rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep. 

Even in unconsciousness, worry lines creased his forehead like faint scars.

I leaned over, pressing my lips to the warm curve of his shoulder. "Good morning, mi amor," I whispered against his skin, careful not to wake him. 

I walked to the kitchen while tying my silk robe. I began preparing for the morning, cracking eggs into a ceramic bowl while I prepared coffee. 

"Señora King," Alba's voice carried genuine surprise as she bustled through the service entrance, her graying hair already pinned into its customary bun. "Not a minute late as always." 

I smiled, whisking the eggs into a golden foam. "The early bird gets the worm, as they say."

"I admire you," she shook her head with fondness, tying her apron around her waist. "Most wives would still be dreaming on their silk pillows."

The compliment meant more than she knew to me. Two years ago, when the weight of board meetings and family dinners had threatened to crush me, Jaime had insisted on finding help. 

I resisted, of course, it was my goal to handle the affairs at home but in the end, common sense won. 

Alba had been a gift wrapped in efficiency and maternal wisdom. She was in her late forties but treated me with so much kindness and respect. When I heard she was a widowed mother with teenage children, it melted something inside me. 

"Could you wake the children, Alba?" She nodded, taking off her apron and walking upstairs, "take your time! I want to have breakfast ready before-"

Warm hands slid around my waist, pulling my back against a familiar chest. Hot lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear and I sucked in a breath. 

"Before what?" Jaime's morning voice, rough with sleep, sent electricity down my spine. 

I hummed, tilting my head so his tongue ran along the length of my neck. "The kids will be down soon, you should stop."

"Mhmm," his arms tightened, his teeth grazing my earlobe. "I woke up to find you gone again, trying to escape me?"

"Never," the word came out breathier than intended as I melted back into his warmth.

"Why are you awake?" I managed, trying to focus on the vegetables waiting to be diced. 

"Past seven already." His voice rumbled against my neck. "Board meeting at nine, remember?" His nose traced along my hairline, inhaling. 

"But this smells incredible. What's my brilliant wife creating now?"

A laugh escaped me as I reached for the knife, positioning it over a crimson bell pepper. "Just breakfast. Nothing fancy-"

"You know what would be even better?" His fingers drew a lazy circle around my ribs, he was itching towards the side of my breast and my nipples hardened in response.

The knife trembled in my grip as his touch drifted higher, closer to my aching chest. My lungs forgot how to function, and all I could feel was the heat from his finger. 

Just a little bit closer and-

His hand shot past me, snatching a carrot from the cutting board with a loud laugh. 

"Starting the day with proper nutrition!" He bit into the carrot with an exaggerated crunch, sapphire eyes dancing with mischief. 

"Jamie Oliver King!" My face heated up with desire flaming in my cheeks. I whirled around brandishing my knife like a tiny sword. 

"I love you too!" He backed toward the doorway, waving as he left. 

I rolled my eyes at his mischievous behaviour, but love filled my chest as I stared at the door he left through. 

"The children are dressed and ready for school, Señora," Alba's voice cut through the air and I sighed, ignoring the flush of my face. 

"Perfect. I'll have everything ready in ten minutes." 

The morning unfolded in chaos, much like usual; Sara's backpack hunt, Micheal's forgotten homework, and driving the kids to school. 

Jaime advised I rest at home today, whispering a promise of expanding our family when he got back from work. 

I understood the implications, and it caused my heart to race with excitement. I'd dreamed of having a child of my, and while Sara and Micheal owned my heart completely, I yearned to experience pregnancy.

The afternoon stretched peacefully, Alba and I wandered through the farmer's market for some grocery shopping as she updated me on her children's college adventures. 

When the children returned from school by three o'clock, I had their favorite grilled cheese sandwiches waiting. 

We settled in the sunroom, the floor-to-ceiling windows gleaming the soft glow of the sunlight. 

Sara chattered excitedly about her day, while Micheal sat cross-legged on the Persian pretending to focus on his math homework while clearly listening to every word. 

"And then Emma said that Tyler said that you-know-who likes Micheal," Sara's eyes sparkled as she but into her sandwich.

Micheal's penicl snapped in half. "Sara." 

"Ooh, Micheal has a girlfriend!" Sara sang, bouncing on her cushion. "Micheal and Rebecca, sitting in a tree-"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Pink stained Micheal's cheek as he scrambled for his backup pencil. "Stop making things up!"

I bit back a smile, watching this glimpse into his hidden world. "Rebecca, hmm? Is she in your class?" 

"There's nothing to tell," Micheal mumbled, but the way he avoided my eyes spoke volumes. 

Sara giggled, swinging her legs. "Aunt Laura saw them talking by the swings yesterday. She said Rebecca gave him her juice box!" 

"SARA!" Micheal's voice cracked with mortification. "Stop saying things that aren't true!"

"It is true!" She stuck her tongue out, "Aunt Laura told Daddy everything."

The room went perfectly still, and I felt ice crawl down my veins. 

Laura. 

Jaime's first wife. The woman who had once shared Jaime's name, his bed, and who had given birth to the children now sitting in front of me. 

She'd left her children and Jaime behind because his company had gone bankrupt at the time, and they were on the verge of losing everything.

"Aunt Laura?" I repeated, my voice cracking. 

Sara nodded excitedly, sipping from her orange juice with delight. "Yes! Daddy's friend! She came back from Europe and she's been super nice to us. She bought me this bracelet!"

 She held up her wrist, displaying a delicate silver chain that caught the afternoon light. 

My breath stuck in my throat, all these while I assumed it was Jaime's gift to her. But I was wrong. 

A rushing sound filled my ears like waves crashing against stone. Sara's voice became distant and distorted as she babbled about presents and outings that had apparently been happening behind closed doors. 

"She took us for ice cream last week while you were at the board meeting, and she knew exactly what flavors we liked! And she remembered how Micheal doesn't like sprinkles but I do, and-"

"Mom?" Micheal's voice cut through the static in my head. "Are you okay? You look really pale."

I tried to stand, but my legs betrayed me. I plopped back on the couch, gripping the edge of the table tightly.

"I'm fine," I exhaled, struggling to breathe through the panic, "I guess I'm a little bit tired!" 

Micheal's worried frown was so achingly familiar to Jaime and my heart tugged. "Are you sure? Should I call Dad?"

"No!" The word exploded from me with more force than intended. Both children flinched, and I immediately softened my voice. "No, sweetheart. I just need some air. You two enjoy your snacks." 

I managed to walk away on trembling legs, and when I got to the doorway, I looked back at them. 

They looked so innocent, oblivious to what was happening. I couldn't blame them, they were so young when she left, they could barely remember her. 

But Jaime... Jaime knew better. 

How long had it been going on? How many moments had been orchestrated around my absence? 

And why... why had Jaime hidden it all behind that perfect smile and false comfort? What on earth was he trying to do?