Chapter 11
The servants who had just come out to begin their morning duties quickly turned away when they saw us.
Another strange rumor will spread again, I thought bitterly. The idea alone made exhaustion wash over me.
I sighed and slowly lifted my head to look at my husband.
His gentle olive eyes were clouded with fatigue, dark circles heavy beneath them.
And yet, somehow, his lips were an odd shade of red — it bothered me.
“I only found out about Chloe’s situation recently,” I said, forcing the words out. “You’ve been busy lately, and we haven’t really had time to talk.”
“I don’t see why this is something you should be angry about.”
“……”
My quiet, steady tone seemed to take Hayden aback; his lips parted slightly, a look of confusion flickering across his face.
I blinked my dry, tired eyes slowly.
“And… I didn’t realize I was supposed to report every little thing about Chloe to you. You’ve always been able to take care of her yourself, haven’t you?”
Because she’s your old friend, after all.
I let out a faint, sarcastic smile.
At this point, the only consolation left was that Hayden had truly been unaware of Chloe’s stalker until now.
“Winter. What I meant was…”
He trailed off, biting his lower lip. The gaze that had been sharp with irritation softened and slid downwards.
“I’m sorry, Winter. I didn’t mean to get angry at you.”
“……”
“I haven’t slept properly… I guess I was tired and got a little oversensitive.”
His lukewarm apology drew a quiet sigh from me. My sleepless brain screamed for rest.
“It’s fine. Go get some rest, dear.”
“…And you?”
“I’ll head in too. I’m a bit tired myself.”
I smiled faintly, then turned away, leaving him standing there with that remorseful look on his face.
Outside, the morning sunlight shone far too brightly for the heaviness in my chest.
After a night spent in fear, unease, and sleeplessness, my body finally gave up.
As soon as I entered my room, I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.
In that hazy half-dream between waking and sleep, I saw my younger self — a bright little girl, laughing and holding hands with a tall boy whose face I couldn’t quite see.
When I woke, the sun was already high in the sky.
I got up and began my day’s work.
Hayden, who had come home late, slept well past noon.
His claim that he hadn’t slept all night didn’t seem to be a lie.
To avoid thinking about him, I buried myself in paperwork — sorting through everything from business letters to household accounts.
At some point, I even started reviewing the annual expense reports for the estate — something I rarely touched.
I was so absorbed that I didn’t hear the knock on the door.
“…Winter. Are you busy?”
The sudden voice startled me. My pen slipped, leaving a blot of ink on the page I’d been calculating.
Eyes wide, I turned toward the door. Hayden stood there, half hidden behind it.
“Sorry. Did I interrupt you?”
He looked awkward, standing at the doorway.
I quickly pressed blotting paper to the spilled ink.
“No, it’s fine. I was just too focused to notice you come in.”
Keeping my head down, I stared at the faint ink stain.
Our conversation from the morning resurfaced — dry and scratchy in my throat.
The bad feelings I’d tried to bury began to stir again.
“If you don’t mind, can I come in?”
I bit my lip but nodded reluctantly. The door closed softly behind him, and the faint scent of vanilla drifted toward me.
“Winter.”
Hayden stepped past the desk and came to stand beside me. I fidgeted nervously, turning my wedding ring around my finger.
“Look at me, Winter.”
When he said my name again, I forced myself to lift my head.
He knelt down on one knee beside me, bringing us eye to eye.
“I’m sorry, Winter.”
He looked up at me, his olive eyes shimmering faintly.
“…It’s all right now—”
“No. It’s not all right. I wasn’t all right. Not thinking about you last night—that was my biggest mistake.”
“……”
Hayden gently took my hand. I flushed, noticing the dark ink smudge on my fingers.
I tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he held on and bowed his head.
His cheek brushed lightly against the back of my hand.
“I’m sorry… for hurting you.”
The olive of his eyes rippled softly when he looked up again.
His voice, lower than usual and utterly sincere, carried a quiet plea for forgiveness.
“I never meant to leave you like that. I didn’t realize it would hurt you so much. It’s my fault.”
“……”
Hearing him repeat his apology over and over, the tight knot in my chest began to loosen.
Just knowing that he understood how I felt… that alone eased the ache inside me.
As I thought about it, I bit my lip gently.
Maybe this was what people meant when they called him the perfect husband.
No one could be perfect all the time — what mattered was how they handled their mistakes.
And if that was true… then perhaps Hayden really was as good a man as everyone said.
“I’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again. I mean it. Will you forgive me, just this once?”
His earnest voice tickled my ear.
I gazed down at him blankly for a moment, almost dazed.
Then, with a boyish charm, he rubbed his cheek against my hand, as if coaxing me.
It was both playful and perfectly calculated.
And somehow, it worked — the fight suddenly felt small and pointless.
“How could I not forgive you?”
A laugh escaped me, half sigh, half surrender.
When I nodded, Hayden smiled in relief and wrapped me in his arms.
“Thank you, Winter. You’re my top priority in this life. Yesterday, I slipped up because I was confused, but that’ll never happen again. You’ll always come first.”
He looked at me with sincere eyes — warm, dependable, and gentle.
He was, as always, the image of the perfect husband.
And I — as expected — put on the face of the perfect wife.
“Thank you. I was too harsh yesterday, too. I’m sorry.”
“No, everything you said was right.”
Hayden pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.
His playful affection made me laugh quietly.
Our reconciliation was, in every sense, flawless.
Unlike the stormy Friday before, the weekend passed in peace.
On Monday morning, Hayden and I sat across from each other, quietly eating breakfast.
The silence between us was comfortable — filled with gentle glances and easy warmth.
At least, until Hayden spoke.
“Oh, your mother called a few days ago.”
The cutlery slipped from my hand and clattered loudly against the plate.
Startled, I looked up. Hayden, calm and well-dressed, smiled faintly.
“…What did she say?”
“Your brother’s business isn’t going well. She said they’re short on funds.”
He said it so casually, as though discussing the weather, while cutting into the last piece of egg on his plate.
My tongue felt like it had turned to stone.
I’d assumed that unless I mentioned it, Hayden wouldn’t find out.
That was my mistake.
I hadn’t imagined my parents would be shameless enough to bring it up to him directly.
“She said she talked to you first. Why didn’t you tell me?”
It was as if he had read my thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Hayden. I should’ve warned you not to listen to her…”
A rush of conflicting emotions flooded me — embarrassment, guilt, and a strange gratitude.
My hand, still holding the fork, hovered awkwardly in midair.
What should I say?
Tell him not to give them money?
Promise it wouldn’t happen again?
“So, I sent them the amount they said they needed.”
Hayden added with a light smile.
“You didn’t have to…”
My head snapped up, and a quiet gasp escaped me.
“You’ve already done so much for my family. I’m… I’m so sorry, Hayden.”
My cheeks burned with shame.
The humiliation felt unbearable.
I clasped my hands tightly on my lap, unable to lift my head — as if I were the one who had done something wrong.
“Don’t say that, Winter. It hurts to hear it.”
“But…”
“We’re family, aren’t we? Your family is my family. It’s only natural to help when family’s in trouble.”
His soft, reassuring tone wrapped around me like a blanket — but the shame didn’t fade.
I could almost hear my mother-in-law, Melinda, clucking her tongue in disapproval.
“…Thank you, Hayden.”
The words came out dry, my mouth rough as if full of sand.
My palms felt bloodless and cold.
“Still,” he said after finishing his water, “if something like this happens again, will you tell me first?”
His olive eyes fixed on me, unreadable.
“If that’s what you want, I will. But honestly, I’d rather you didn’t worry about things like this.”
He smiled, the corners of his eyes folding slightly.
He seemed so used to situations like this.
And that thought — that quiet, practiced ease — made a strange unease rise in me.
“Hayden… has this ever happened before?”
(To be continued)
