The emotional shock of the previous night had been so severe that Amanda hadn't even stirred when Quentin carried her from the car to their bed. She slept deeply until after 9:00 AM, waking up in a state of soft confusion. When she reached out and found the space beside her empty, a wave of disappointment washed over her.
She sat up, hurried through her morning routine, and ran downstairs. Her footsteps clattered as she searched the study and the living room, but Quentin was nowhere to be found.
Didn't he say yesterday that there was nothing major at the company? That he could work from home? As the silence of the house set in, her eyes unexpectedly welled up with tears.
"Madam, you're awake."
Butler Wayne approached her just as she looked ready to cry. Amanda tried to suppress her restlessness, pursing her lips. "Butler Wayne... when did Quentin leave for work?"
Butler Wayne beamed at her proactive interest. "The Master said something urgent came up at the office. He told me that when you woke up, I was to boil an egg for you to press against your eyes."
At the mention of the egg, Amanda's hand flew to her face. She felt the puffiness of her lids—a stark reminder of how much she had wept in his arms. She felt a flush of embarrassment. Since when did I become so clingy? I can't even find him in the house without losing my sense of direction.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she murmured.
Butler Wayne laughed gently and guided her toward the kitchen. "Come and have breakfast. The Master insisted I stew more chicken soup for you."
Amanda sat down, but she couldn't help but frown as the bowl was placed before her. "Why is it always chicken soup?"
"Because," Butler Wayne replied calmly, "the Master believes it's the best way to nourish your body."
Amanda couldn't help but smile. That "stupid" Quentin—did he think he could just solve everything with tonic? If she kept eating like this, she'd be over-nourished! But knowing it was his way of looking after her made the soup taste far better than usual.
"Did you two have a falling out?" Butler Wayne asked tentatively, eyeing her swollen lids. "Your eyes are so puffy this morning."
Amanda swallowed a spoonful of soup, a flicker of sadness crossing her face as she remembered the yellowed photo and the truth of the beach. Butler Wayne took her silence for a 'yes.'
"Are you really arguing?" he asked anxiously.
Amanda shook her head quickly. She couldn't exactly explain that she had cried because she'd discovered a decade of hidden devotion. "No, we aren't fighting. We watched a movie last night... it was just so touching that I got a bit carried away."
Butler Wayne looked suspicious but decided not to pry. "Well, it's good that you aren't fighting."
As she finished her soup, a thought struck her. She looked at the butler with a spark in her eyes. "Butler Wayne, do you know what dishes Quentin especially likes?"
The butler looked at her, surprised. "He isn't particularly picky, but he has a few everyday favorites. Why? Are you planning to cook dinner?"
"I want to make him lunch," Amanda said, her smile widening. In her previous life, she had spent years perfecting her cooking to please a man who didn't love her. Now, she wanted to use those skills for the man who actually did. "If I brought a meal to the company... would that be okay? Or would it be too much?"
Butler Wayne's smile was so wide the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. He waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter if it's 'okay.' If you show up, the Master will be the happiest man in the building."
Amanda didn't need to hear anything else. She jumped up and ran into the kitchen. "I'll start preparing it now!"
"But you haven't finished your breakfast!"
"I'm full!" she called back, already reaching for the apron.
Amanda poured her heart into a "love lunch box" for the Harris Group's CEO. Once it was packed, she checked the time and realized it was peak working hours. She decided to call Secretary James first.
In the high-pressure environment of the Harris Group boardroom, Secretary James felt his phone vibrate. He glanced down, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. The CEO's wife?
Even if Quentin was in the middle of a serious speech, James didn't dare miss this call. He slipped out of the room like a ghost and answered in a hushed, frantic tone. "Yes, Madam?"
Amanda's lips twitched. He sounded like he was in the middle of a heist. "Ah... James? Is it a convenient time to talk?"
"It's convenient, Madam! Extremely convenient!"
Amanda, standing at the company's entrance in a low-profile hat and mask, felt a bit amused. "Don't be in such a hurry. I've brought some food for Quentin. I'm out front—should I come up, or can you come down to get it?"
"Please wait right there, Madam! Give me five minutes—no, three minutes! I'll be right down!"
"There's no need to rush—"
Click.
Amanda stared at her darkened phone screen, bewildered. She touched her nose thoughtfully. Has Quentin been overworking him lately? He seems... intense.