Chapter 5

It was an ordinary day, just like any other, when we found out about Beau’s return.

Cillian and I had plans for dinner that evening.

Since I had time during the afternoon, I decided to head to his office earlier and wait for him to finish work.

Even after eight o’clock, well past our agreed-upon dinnertime, his office door remained tightly shut.

After speaking to his secretary, I was told an important client came to meet him the same afternoon.

Since Cillian was the head of the corporation, it was normal for someone to visit in person to discuss work with him.

I did not think much of it and decided to keep waiting for him in the lounge.

I did not notice the hesitant look in his secretary’s eyes.

By nine, the door finally opened.

When I saw the “client,” my heart dropped.

It was Beau.

She was back.

Cillian glanced at his watch before assuming his usual apologetic look.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting so long.”

He stood sideways to introduce her to me.

“This is Beau Vox, she’s my…” he paused briefly before continuing, “Friend.”

Beau gently brushed her hair before extending a hand toward me.

“Hello, you must be Margaret. Cillian has been talking about you.

“I’m so sorry for taking so long. I haven't seen Cillian for two years, and we just lost track of time catching up!”

When I looked at the way she stood next to him and was greeting me with such confidence, something occurred to me.

For the first time, I realized how grueling the word “wait” could be.

We had been married for over a year by that point.

I would often visit Cillian’s office to wait for him, but I had to go to the lounge every time.

I had never been inside his office.

Unlike Beau, who had the privilege of meeting him in his office.

Cillian once told me that he drew sharp boundaries between personal life and work.

The office was strictly a domain for his work.

That was when I realized that there were always exceptions made.

The only difference was that the exception did not apply to me.

Meanwhile, Beau glanced out the window and suggested with a smile, “It’s getting late. Let me treat you and Margaret to something at our favorite restaurant we used to go to!”

“Sure.”

Cillian answered without a thought before suddenly recalling something, then explained sheepishly to me, “It’s been two years since she’s been back. Let’s go to the restaurant she picked. We can go to the place we reserved another time.”

Cillian had always been busy with work.

I often got stood up by him. Whenever he showed up, it was not surprising for him to be late.

He was so busy that I had gotten used to his requests for me to “wait” and the constant assurances of “next time.”

That day, those familiar phrases hurt me more than usual.

I tried to explain that the restaurant we reserved was about to shut down for good because the owner wanted to move back to his hometown.

In fact, it was their final day of operation.

There was no next time.

When I watched the two of them walking side by side toward the elevator, I held my tongue.

I figured Cillian would not hold on to any feelings for her, seeing as she left him to go overseas on the day of their wedding.

He only obliged out of their past friendship. Surely, that was it.

After that meal, it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps he had never forgotten Beau.