Chapter 146 Adrian

Chapter 146 Talia
She didn’t fight it anymore. The grief came first, heavy and suddenly. Then the anger, the one she'd previously felt. 

And underneath all of that, the deeper sting, the humiliation of realizing she might have been the last to know, while others around him may have known all along.

Her mind drifted, uninvited, to the miscarriage. Three years ago. The moment she'd mistakenly taken in. It seemed as if she was drugged and she'd gone to porch it out in the toilet. 

She dropped unconscious while doing this and was quickly rushed to the hospital. 

She remembered the hospital room too clearly, the sterile light, the machines, the way everything felt too still. 

Archer had cried then. Really cried. He had held her hand tightly, pressed his forehead against her knuckles, and whispered that they would try again, that they would be okay.

All those were him putting up an act. 

And foolish her, she had believed him.

For a long time after, she had treated that memory like something real, something that proved there was still real love between them even in the worst moment. On the nights that were hardest to get through, she had held onto it as solid proof.

Now, a new thought surfaced, quick, shocking, and almost unbearable.

Had he left the hospital and gone straight to Celine?

A loud groan was about to escape her lips. 

She immediately pressed her fist to her mouth, forcing it back, holding herself together by sheer effort until the moment passed and the silence returned.

She cried until it ran out of her. Not for long, maybe four minutes, maybe less. She had never had the luxury of breaking for longer than that.

When it was over, she gathered herself. She wiped her face, drew in a slow breath and stood back up.

She rolled her shoulders back, first one, then the other, loosening the tightness from them. She blinked a few times to clear her blurry eyes. She breathed in and out. 

Without needing to check, she reached into her jacket pocket and found her lipstick. She applied it carefully, without a mirror, smoothing it as if nothing had happened at all.

She lifted her phone and looked at her reflection on the dark screen.

Fine. She looked fine, completely fine.

Good, she thought quietly. Just stay fine.

She walked back out of the stockroom with a smile already in place.

Darla was behind the counter and looked up the moment she appeared, her eyes doing what they always did. Taking quicj assessment in flashes. She had been reading Amber like that since when she came to Berx Fashion. 

Amber met her gaze for just a second. That was enough.

Darla’s expression changed slightly, softening. She understood immediately. And just as quickly, she said nothing.

Amber moved straight back into the main floor of the boutique and approached Celine.

“Our designer can have the dress ready in three days,” she said. 

“We’ll call you once it’s ready. There won’t be any charge for the adjustment, it’s included in our service.”

Celine nodded, satisfied to hear. She rose from the couch and smoothed down her dress. 

“Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll probably be back before then anyway.”

Again? 

Amber visibly frowned but didn't let it stay up to a second. 

Her eyes swept across the boutique one more time, lingering like she was already placing herself into it again. “He’ll keep sending me here. I can tell this is going to turn into a habit.”

“We’d love that,” Amber replied, smiling. 

Amber walked her to the door herself, opened it, and held it steady.

“Goodbye. Thanks for your patronage.” 

“Goodbye, see ya.” Celine flipped her acrylic diamond nails over her face, then stepped out.

The door closed behind her.

The air grew darker the moment Celine was gone. “Maybe it's because of her talkative attitude,” Amber said within herself. 

Darla followed Amber to the window, standing close without saying anything at first. Together, they watched as Celine stepped into the waiting black car at the curb.

The door closed, and the vehicle pulled away smoothly into traffic, blending back into the flow of the city as if it had never paused there at all.

A driver. Of course there was a driver.

“Boss,” Darla said quietly.

“Not here,” Amber replied at once, stepping away from the window as if putting distance between herself and the thought. “Tonight.”

In the  evening, Amber closed the boutique to go home. When she arrived, the entrance door was locked. 

Archer hadn't yet returned. Her mind went to only one place. 

She pushed the key into the door knob and opened, stepping in. Amber had barely settled in when she heard Archer’s car stop outside. 

She was in the kitchen. She had cooked, not because she wanted to, but because she needed her hands occupied with something steady and precise for a full two hours.

Risotto. His favourite.

The apartment gave a warm, homely smell, one which suggested everything was fine. 

This wasn't what she needed to reveal prematurely. 

She heard him place his briefcase down at the living room. Then he began loosening his tie and pulling off his jacket and shirt. He'd perceived the aroma of food. 

A moment later, he walked up to the kitchen but paused at the doorway.

“You cooked,” he said, scanning around like he was searching for something. His eyes refused to meet Amber's. 

Guilty. As expected. 

“Long day,” she replied, stirring the pot without looking at him either. It was the most she could do at the moment. 

“Sit. It’s almost ready.”

He walked further into the kitchen, and she felt him before she saw him, his hands settling around her waist from behind, his lips brushing the side of her neck, in a way that once used to make her soften and close her eyes.

She allowed herself to lean back into him, only a little, just enough to make it feel like something real without fully surrendering to it.

“Smells incredible,” he murmured softly against her neck.

“Sit down, Archer,” she said with a soft laugh, turning just slightly so she could place her palm against his chest and guide him back. 

The touch was gentle, almost playful. “You’re in my way.”