Chapter 12
Gabriel stood in the center of the kitchen, his grim face reflected in the cold gleam of the marble countertop.
Martha stood nearby, barely daring to breathe.
“So… for six years, she silently did all this, never saying a word?” His voice was hoarse with disbelief.
Martha cautiously nodded. “Madam never let us interfere. She said… said your stomach was sensitive and commercial hangover remedies were too harsh. She needed to monitor the cooking herself.”
Gabriel’s fingers unconsciously tapped against the counter.
For six full years, no matter how late he returned from business functions, a bowl of warm hangover soup always awaited him.
He had never considered that it represented Cassidy’s vigil into the early hours.
“Sir, would you like me to try…” the butler began tentatively.
‘Not necessary,” Gabriel turned toward the stairs.
‘Everyone get some rest.”
Passing the master bedroom, he heard Natalie’s steady breathing inside.
She turned in her sleep, the silk bedding making a soft rustling sound.
Gabriel stood in the doorway, unexpectedly thinking of Cassidy-
in the early days of their marriage, he had actively avoided his arranged match, often finding excuses to stay out, requently not coming home at all.
Yet no matter when he returned, he would find her waiting for him in the living room.
Cassidy had always been a light sleeper, waking at the slightest sound.
Sometimes when he came home in the middle of the night, he would find her curled up asleep on the sofa, the elevision still on with the volume turned low.
Back then, he hadn’t liked her, barely glancing at her before heading to his room.
But she had continued this routine for years.
Eventually, he would pause for her, even covering her with a blanket.
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When had things changed? It seemed to coincide with Natalie’s return.
Constantly handling matters for Natalie, he had gradually spent less time at home.
Once, when Natalie expressed interest in meeting the children, he had brought them along.
From that point forward, their contact with Natalie increased, until they spent most of their time with her.
Cassidy had questioned this once, angrily demanding:
“You’re my husband, Ethan and Emma are my children. Why do you spend every day doting on someone else?”
She had hesitated then, tears filling her eyes.
“I can’t even tell anymore who you consider your wife, who they consider their mother.”
But at the time, his mind had been consumed by newly–returned Natalie. Her questioning had seemed unreasonable.
So he had coldly responded: “Have you forgotten… if you hadn’t interfered…”
‘Natalie should have been the hostess of this house all along?”
Cassidy had stood frozen, looking at him with indescribable disappointment.
Back then, seeing her pained, disbelieving gaze had momentarily moved something in him.
But Natalie was his true love, so he had left Cassidy standing there, turning away without hesitation.
After that, Cassidy never brought up the matter again, as if that conversation had never happened.
He had been satisfied, thinking she was finally being reasonable.
With these thoughts, he found himself pushing open the children’s bedroom door.
Ethan and Emma slept soundly, their small heads resting close together.
On the nightstand stood a framed photo of them with Natalie, all smiling brightly. Only then did he notice that Cassidy’s photo had been removed at some point.
Looking at the empty space where her photo had once hung, Gabriel felt a strange emptiness in his own heart.
Instead of returning to the master bedroom, he went to the guest room.
Outside, moonlight shone coldly through the window.
Gabriel took a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and took a swig directly from the bottle.
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The burning liquid scorched his throat but couldn’t extinguish the inexplicable restlessness in his heart.
