Page 36 of Falling for the Wife

He shook his head. “I love the feeling of water evaporating off my skin.” Instead of going back to his bedroom to change, he copied my position and sat on the bed before he stole my toast. He ate it in one bite.

“Ugh, you stole my food!”

“Bite me,” he muttered, provoking me further. “Can you make me another?” he asked before he took a sip of my coffee.

I glared at him, trying not to smile before I did as he asked. “If you’d told me you were hungry, I could’ve asked them to bring more food.”

“Nah, no need.” He shrugged. “I can always eat off yours.”

Fuck, why is he so fucking sexy?I wanted him—all of him. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”

He winked at me.

I almost died.

“You’re going on a date with him. Again,” he stated in a matter of fact tone. His jovial demeanor shifted to analyzing. “Things are getting serious?”

“Not in the way you mean. Don’t spy on me when I go. It makes me uncomfortable. I feel like I have to watch what I say.”

His deadpan expression was trained on me, compromising. “I won’t have to if you give me updates of your location.”

“Is that really necessary? Aren’t you going over the top?”

“Like I said, when it comes to you, I take everything seriously.” He downed the rest of my coffee. “Time to head to the basement. Your father wants to go over something with our new project. Can I expect to see you at lunch?”

I nodded while gazing at him adoringly.

“Thanks for breakfast, wife.” He grinned. The kind where it shifted my axis and no one else mattered but him.

I sighed. “Anytime.”

CHAPTER14

Gisele

Things with Jaredbecame less tense from then on. We’d bait and banter. Our friendly banters sometimes could get messy, but we’d end up laughing our butts off. I admitted it was nice having him in my life, though not in the way I had once imagined.Still,I appreciated him all the same. When the sun set and the night set in, he’d continuously sleep holding me close, never releasing me until it was time to head to work. He never explained why he did it, so I chose to ignore it as well. We were adjusting, and I supposed I was simply relieved that the arguments had ceased for the time being. Anything to keep the peace, I was all for it. So, when he came home late or if I spotted a lipstick stain on the back of his neck, I dared not voice out anything because I didn’t want to rock the calm environment we currently shared. In some ways, my silence was a huge sign I was slowly letting him go, too.

Every night, once my father finished discussing work with Jared, we’d spend about an hour before he rested. A couple of those nights were spent stargazing on the balcony, but once it got too cold for him, we stayed indoors. After the past nights I spent with him, I simply couldn’t skip these cherished moments, so I figured we’d pursue something that we both enjoyed but without needing him to participate.The Fountainby Darren Aronofsky was one of our favored books. I read to him like I used to when I suffered from severe stuttering. My father was a devout believer of practice makes perfect, so I sat across his work table every night without fail. The reading sessions went on for an hour. It took a whole year until my speech disorder slowly disappeared.

“You brought so much love and happiness to our lives, my little one. Never forget me or your mom. Remember the great memories we shared. I love you, my darling girl,” he softly murmured before closing his eyes.

“I love you, too, Papa.”

He couldn’t stay awake past chapter two before exhaustion finally set in. My heart ached each time my eyes grazed his pallor. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could vividly picture him so full of life, bouncing off ideas to the next person, lecturing me about the importance of purpose and finding’s one’s passion. Life worked in such mysterious ways; one couldn’t fully know what tomorrow might bring. And even though his time was numbered, my father lived a brilliant life, the way he envisioned it.

Little did I realize it was the last time I’d get to spend time with him. My father peacefully passed away in his sleep. He died with a smile on his face, as if relieved to be free from carrying the burden on his shoulders.

Seeing the peaceful smile on his pale face was like a balm for the heavy pang in my heart. Upon learning the news, Blair and Vivienne immediately came home to be with me. We rallied once one of us needed love and protection. Without their silent strength keeping me together, I wasn’t sure how I’d have managed going through the private memorial and burial.

Jared deflected the attention from the grieving only daughter to the new head of the company. He also succeeded in limiting the media coverage by keeping my pictures from being plastered anywhere. He simply took charge without needing to be told, and for that, I was forever grateful.

Jared and Thomas worked together to arrange everything without troubling me. My input would’ve been appreciated, but I couldn’t for the life of me muster enough brain energy to figure out what food we should serve the guests.

Most of my father’s colleagues and the particular ones he mentored shed a lot of tears. Jared, who seemed composed all the time, had moisture in his eyes. Though he hadn’t openly spoken about it, I knew Peter Weber was the closest thing he had to a father, too. But unlike me, he was functional and could efficiently mobilize by taking charge.

Wyatt Rinaldi was also in attendance, but it was so hectic I barely had the chance to properly speak to him. Besides, with Blair around, I couldn’t risk drawing attention towards us. His sister was perceptive, and she was too sharp not to pick on the tension I had with him.

A childhood friend unexpectedly showed up. Dexter Berg graduated from Harvard and was home to jumpstart his own law firm. Seeing a friendly face amongst the sea of strangers was a welcome sight. However, after an hour’s worth of polite sentiments, sympathies and condolences, I quietly retreated to my bedroom, selfishly leaving Jared, Thomas, Vivienne, and Blair to take care of the guests.