Chapter 157: Soft Mornings
Today was Friday and it meant two things.
One — work at Gray & Milton would be lighter. No major meetings, no pressure from Clarkson hovering over their heads. The Finance Department always wrapped up by Thursday so reports could be balanced, budgets tied, and any fires extinguished before the weekend.
Two — Val would be leaving tomorrow.
But I wasn’t going to think about that yet.
Not when I’d barely opened my eyes and she was already tugging the blanket off me, hair still messy from sleep, wearing that oversized shirt of mine like she’d stolen it on purpose.
"Husband," she whispered, voice soft but firm, "you’ll be late."
Late. For work.
Which was ironic, because I was pretty sure she was the reason I could barely move.
I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "You realize this is your fault, right?"
She blinked innocently. "I didn’t hear you complaining last night."
I cracked a smile despite the exhaustion, dragging myself out of bed. "That’s because I was too busy trying to survive."
Her laugh followed me into the bathroom.
By the time I came out, showered and dressed, she was already at the table. Breakfast spread out like it belonged in a catalog — scrambled eggs, toast, sausages, and that faint smell of coffee she somehow made smell better than any café in the city.
I sat down, still half-asleep, staring blankly at the plate in front of me. Fork in hand, unmoving.
Val rested her chin on her palm, watching me. She’d been staring for a while.
When I finally looked up, she bit her lip and said quietly, "Sorry."
I blinked. "For what?"
"For... last night," she said, voice almost a whisper. "You look exhausted."
I exhaled slowly. "You’re only realizing that now?"
She frowned a little, like a guilty kid caught stealing candy, and reached for the fork. Scooping a bit of egg, she leaned over the table and held it out toward me. "Here," she said softly, "I’ll feed you."
I just stared at her.
She added, even softer this time, "Please?"
That word.
That tone.
I sighed, leaning forward and letting her shove the bite into my mouth.
She smiled in quiet satisfaction, then immediately took another forkful and aimed it at me again.
"Val," I said with my mouth half full.
> "Mm?"
"You already said you’re sorry."
> "I know."
"I’m not even upset."
"I know." Her voice dropped to a mumble. She looked down at her lap, cheeks faintly red.
I chewed slowly, watching her. It was impossible not to smile. She looked so small, so soft in her guilt — like she’d stolen something precious and now didn’t know what to do with it.
I leaned back a little. "You know what’ll make me feel better?"
Her eyes lifted. "What?"
"If you stayed another week."
She froze for half a second, then giggled — a quiet, surprised laugh that filled the little kitchen. "Wow," she said, shaking her head, "I guess I’m rubbing off on you."
"Maybe," I said, smiling. "But I’m not wrong."
She laughed again, still shaking her head as she grabbed another forkful and shoved it toward me.
It was easy to forget the part about her leaving tomorrow.
We’d talked about it, sure, how she had to go back, how she’d be back soon, but we left it at that. Almost like we’d subconsciously agreed not to let it hang over us. Especially not today.
Today was just breakfast. Just her. Just this.
She somehow made me finish the entire plate — somewhere between her guilty pouting, her soft "one more bite," and looking way too innocently cute for someone who could make her you second guess yourself with just a single look.
By the time we were ready to leave, I was still tired, but less so. She drove — of course she did. She insisted, claiming I looked like I’d collapse if I so much as blinked too hard.
The morning sun slanted across the windshield, painting her hair gold as she hummed something under her breath. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I felt her hand shaking my shoulder gently.
"Kai," she said softly, "we’re here."
I blinked awake. The familiar front of Gray & Milton stood in front of us, quiet and still in the early hour.
"Oh," I mumbled, yawning. "Already?"
She frowned a little, nodding like she was still feeling the guilt.
I reached back for my briefcase. The moment I grabbed the handle, she spoke again, her voice smaller this time.
> "Babe?"
I turned.
She was biting her lip, the way she did when she was hesitating. "Can’t you just... skip work today?"
I raised a brow. "Skip work?"
"You can call in sick," she said quickly, eyes darting from me to the steering wheel and back. "You’re tired, and... I mean... it’s just one day."
I smiled softly. Her tone wasn’t demanding, just guilty. Worried.
She looked like she wanted to say more but couldn’t. I leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"I’ll be fine."
Her shoulders relaxed, though the guilt didn’t quite fade.
"Sorry," she murmured again.
I chuckled. "You really don’t have to keep saying that."
She smiled weakly. "Maybe if I say it enough times, the sleep will go away."
I grinned. "Nice try."
I opened the door and stepped out, slinging the briefcase over my shoulder.
She was still looking at me, fingers tight around the steering wheel.
"Go on," I said, nodding toward the road.
She hesitated for another few seconds, then finally nodded.
As I walked toward the glass doors, I could feel her gaze still on me. When I reached the entrance, I turned and sure enough, she was there, waiting for me to look back.
I waved.
She smiled, the kind of smile that always hit somewhere deep in my chest and only then did she drive off.
I stood there for a few seconds longer, just watching until the SUV disappeared into the traffic.
And for a moment, all I could think was how ridiculously lucky I was.
Lucky that she was mine.
Lucky that she still looked at me that way after all these years.
Lucky that even when she drove me to exhaustion, she made me want to do it all over again.
Because really, I didn’t just have a girlfriend.
I had Val.
And that... meant everything.
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To be continued...