Val didn’t make breakfast this morning.
Normally, that would’ve stung a little. She always did — or at least, she used to — every weekday like clockwork, before things got... complicated. But not today. Not this morning.
Maybe it’s because she woke up.
Not with words, not right away — just the soft drag of her fingertips tracing lazy circles across my chest, the faint tickle of her hair brushing my skin as she leaned in. Then ca the whisper, low and velvety and warm against my ear.
"Morning, husband," she’d murmured, like it was a secret ant for just us.
It still amazes how that one word — husband — can completely undo .
I smiled before my eyes were even open. She kissed my jaw once, then twice, before whispering sothing about having to leave early. So work eting or "project handover." I honestly didn’t catch all of it; I was still caught between half-sleep and her voice.
"Go back to bed," she said, brushing my hair off my forehead.
I didn’t. I just watched her move around the room, that quiet grace that was all hers, even in a rush, and thought, yeah... maybe things really are fine now.
Between her schedule and mine, mornings like this had beco pretty normal. She and Aline usually took turns with breakfast, though "taking turns" was generous. The few tis I tried to help, Val would sohow materialize beside , wooden spoon in hand, shaking her head like I was about to commit a cri.
I still rember the last ti I tried to cook for us. I’d just cracked the eggs when she walked in, took one look at the pan, and said, "Kai, I love you, but I also love my kitchen not being on fire."
She took over, of course. And sohow, I ended up laughing instead of being offended.
That was Val. Always knowing how to make sothing feel lighter than it should.
By the ti I finally got up, the house slled faintly of coffee and toasted bread. Aline was already in the kitchen, humming sothing soft under her breath while Duchess sat on the counter like she owned the place. Which, judging by how Aline was scratching her under the chin, wasn’t too far from the truth.
Aline looked up as I made my way down the stairs, her face brightening instantly. "Good morning, Mr. Tanaka," she said cheerfully.
"Morning, Aline," I replied, still rubbing the back of my neck. "You’re up early."
She smiled and gestured at the cat. "Duchess decided it was playti an hour ago. I didn’t have a choice."
I chuckled. "Yeah, she’s good at that."
"Breakfast is ready," Aline said, then added with a teasing grin, "Mrs. Tanaka told to handle it today since she had to leave early. She said she’ll cook dinner instead."
For so reason, that alone made my morning.
I tried to hide the smile that crept onto my face, but Aline noticed. Of course she did. "You look happy, sir," she said lightly. "Should I take that as a good sign?"
"Yeah," I said, unable to help it this ti. "A very good one."
Aline laughed softly, and Duchess owed as if to agree.
After breakfast — which, thankfully, Aline kept simple — I left for work feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
---
Gray & Milton’s headquarters sat in the heart of the city, sleek, all glass and white marble, with just enough intimidation in its design to remind everyone why it was considered one of the best engineering and consulting firms in the country.
The elevator chid softly as I reached my floor. The doors slid open to reveal the usual hum of Monday: the clicking of keyboards, phones ringing, quiet chatter, the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the sll of paper and printer ink.
And for the first ti in a while, I smiled as I walked through it all.
Maybe it was the sleep. Or maybe it was because Val had called husband again.
Either way, Derrick noticed — as he always did.
He was already at his desk when I walked in, leaning back in his chair with that lazy grin of his. As soon as I set my coffee down and dropped into my seat, he spun his chair halfway toward and raised an eyebrow.
"Soone’s in a good mood," he said. "You win the lottery or sothing?"
I took a slow sip of my coffee, matching his tone. "Sothing like that."
He smirked. "Ah. So, Mrs. Tanaka forgave you then?"
I glanced at him. "I don’t rember saying I needed forgiving."
He chuckled. "Yeah, and I don’t rember you smiling that wide since... well, since before you started coming in looking like your soul left your body."
I laughed quietly. "You should’ve gone into counseling, Derrick. You’ve got the observation skills for it."
He made a mock bow. "What can I say? I read people."
He wasn’t wrong though, he really did read people. And shockingly well for soone who pretends he’s too busy flirting with the intern to notice anything deeper.
Derrick wasn’t just my colleague; he was the one guy in this building I could actually relax around. He’d never asked what was wrong when I was off, but he’d always known it had sothing to do with Val. And I respected him for not pushing. That’s why he’s now my second real male friend, right after Trent, who still holds the top spot. Marina’s still in her own category entirely of course.
"So," he said, tapping his pen against the desk. "Before I forget — did you hear about Tasha?"
I frowned. "What about her?"
"She got engaged." He grinned. "To so guy nad Lewis sothing. Lewis—uh—Hartman? No, Harrison. Yeah. Lewis Harrison."
"Lewis sothing," I repeated, deadpan.
] "That’s the one."
I shook my head, trying not to laugh. "You’re terrible with nas."
] "I rember the important parts. The rest’s just filler."
"Right. Like basic human detail."
He ignored that. "Anyway, I heard the proposal was big. Fancy dinner, fireworks, the whole nine yards. Guess so people still do grand gestures."
I raised an eyebrow. "You saying that like you wouldn’t do the sa thing."
Derrick smirked. "If I ever find soone crazy enough to marry , sure."
"Emphasis on crazy," I said.
"Touché." He leaned back, taking a sip from his mug. Then, casually, he said, "So, how’s the bid coming along?"
It took a second to register. "The ridian Developnt Initiative?"
"Yeah, that one." Derrick snapped his fingers. "The big fancy governnt project with a na no one can pronounce right. How’s it looking?"
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. "It’s... moving. We’ve finalized most of the sustainability frawork, and the presentation deck’s in review. Still a few weeks before submission, though."
Derrick nodded. "And competition?"
I hesitated, then smiled thinly. "You know how it is. Everyone’s out for blood."
"Right," Derrick said, his grin crooked. "You’ve got Moreau Dynamics on one side, your father-in-law’s empire, and Weldane chanics on the other. Not exactly the friendliest competition."
I forced a smile. "Yeah. Sothing like that."
Weldane chanics — top three in the country when it ca to infrastructure and large-scale builds. Moreau Dynamics? The giants. The ones everyone expected to win by default, mostly because of their legacy and history in the field. And then there was Gray & Milton — not smaller by any ans, just newer, sharper, and bold enough to challenge the old guard.
Sixteen firms in total, all running for the sa thing. But only one would get it — the full oversight contract. The one that ca with power, prestige, and enough zeroes in the payout to make every CEO in the room forget their manners.
The rest — maybe five or six — would still get pieces of the project as subcontractors, but everyone knew that wasn’t the real prize. Everyone wanted to be the main contractor, the na stamped on every report, every news headline, every governnt file.
Derrick gave a sideways look. "Think you can bring this one ho?"
I tapped the edge of my mug, pretending to think. "We’ve got the numbers," I said finally. "The design’s solid, the sustainability model’s one of the best we’ve put forward, and the environntal efficiency data’s unmatched. With the right timing—"
"—and the right politics," Derrick added.
"Exactly."
He grinned, lifting his coffee cup in mock salute. "Well, either way, I’m rooting for you, man. Soone’s gotta keep the old guard nervous."
I smiled, genuine this ti. "Thanks, Derrick."
He nodded once and turned back to his monitor, already typing away.
I watched him for a mont, then glanced at the window, the city stretched out beneath the sunlight, the skyline gleaming like steel and glass promises.
And for a second, I let myself believe it, that things really were back on track.
Val and I were okay. The project was stable. The day was calm.
But sowhere in the back of my mind, her father’s words still lingered, quiet but sharp.
You’ll regret this, Kai.
Maybe not today. Maybe not yet.
But I could feel it. The story wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
---
To be continued...
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