I stayed with him for a week before Kevin convinced me to return home. I had a job to settle and a life that still needed my attention. Richard had his own, too.
He wasn't just some young man I stumbled into. He was a student with dreams and a future he was still shaping. I still didn't understand why he married me so quickly, or why I allowed it.
Two quiet months passed. The world returned to its rhythm, and so did I. Richard moved on with his classes, now a fourth-year student in Aeronautical Mechanic Engineering, preparing to graduate, his schedule no doubt heavier than ever.
I decided not to reach out. Not that I even had his number saved. Perhaps that was my excuse to keep a distance.
Life felt normal again. Until that night.
A knock jolted me from my sleep. I dragged myself to the door, still groggy, hair messy from tossing and turning.
The moment I opened it, words caught in my throat.
"You..."
But I never got to finish. A hot, urgent kiss silenced me. My heart lurched.
"Richard…"
His lips were insistent, desperate. He didn't stop as he guided me backward into the apartment, shutting the door behind us without breaking the kiss. I should have pushed him away, demanded answers, but my half-asleep body lagged behind my racing mind.
The couch met the back of my knees. I stumbled, and he eased me down, his strength undeniable. His weight pressed over me, his mouth still devouring mine.
"Richard!"
I bit down on his lip, harder this time, forcing space between us. His lips parted with a hiss of pain, and finally, the kiss broke.
But instead of retreating, he lowered his head against my chest, his voice trembling.
"I miss you, Boss."
My breath caught. The endearment. The warmth of his weight. The way his arms clung as if I might vanish.
It felt unbearably intimate, dangerously close to something I wasn't sure I was ready to face.
"What are you doing here at this dead hour of the night?"
He lifted his head, eyes soft but insistent. "I'm your husband, too."
"So?" I shot back, trying to keep my voice firm, though my heart raced.
"I miss you, Boss." His breath deepened, as if he was inhaling my very presence, trying to etch it into himself.
I wanted to scold him, to push him away for barging into my life unannounced, but then...
Grrr.
The sound of his stomach interrupted my thoughts. I blinked at him.
"Get up and have dinner."
"I don't want to. I'm not hungry."
His stomach betrayed him again, louder this time.
"You need to eat dinner."
"But…" he tried to protest, lips tugging into a sulk.
"Shut up..."
Before I could say more, he stole another quick kiss from my lips, like a thief snatching something precious. Then, with a reluctant grin, he finally pushed himself upright.
I rolled off the couch with a sigh, heading for the kitchen. The fridge still held leftovers from dinner. I reheated them quietly, the hum of the microwave filling the silence between us.
When I set the plate in front of him, he didn't touch it right away. Instead, he looked at me with that same intensity that always made me feel strangely restless.
"Eat with me," he asked softly.
"I'm too full," I replied, leaning back against the counter. "You eat, and I'll watch."
He finally picked up the spoon and began eating. For a while, the only sound was the clink of metal against ceramic.
I frowned. "Is the food not up to your liking?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Then what's up with your face?"
He set the spoon down, his expression unreadable. "I just… miss you cooking food for me."
Something tightened in my chest.
"Have I cooked for you before?" I asked carefully.
His lips curled into the faintest, bittersweet smile. "You always do."
I wanted to press him, to demand when, where, how... but the way he said it, like it was an unshakable truth, left me speechless.
I rubbed at my eyes, the weight of sleep finally pulling me down. I didn't expect him to stand, collect his dishes, and head to the sink without a word. The sound of running water and clinking plates drifted from the kitchen.
Richard... washing the dishes?
That was the last thing I thought I'd see.
When the sound faded, I called over my shoulder, "If you're done, go home and lock the door."
I didn't wait for his answer. My body was too heavy with exhaustion. I trudged back to my room, slipped under the covers, and let my eyes close almost immediately.
The next thing I felt was the mattress dipping beside me. Someone had climbed into bed. I was too drowsy to react, too far gone between wake and sleep. The warmth of another body pressed gently against mine.
Richard's hand slid around my waist, firm yet careful, as if afraid I might push him away even in my sleep. He didn't try anything more, just held me, like I was something fragile he couldn't let go of.
I felt the faint brush of his lips against my hair, a lingering kiss, soft enough to make my heart twitch awake inside my chest.
"Good night, Boss," he whispered, his voice breaking the silence like a secret meant only for me.
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed wasn't the sunlight spilling through the curtains, but the weight around my waist. A heavy arm draped lazily across me, pinning me in place. Hot, steady breaths fanned against the back of my neck, tickling my skin and raising goosebumps.
For a moment, I froze, unsure if I should panic or let myself melt into the warmth. The scent of him lingered faintly, soap, mint, and something undeniably his.
Carefully, I tried to slip away from his embrace, inching little by little toward freedom. But the arm around me only tightened, like a snake coiling with gentle insistence.
"I need to cook breakfast…" I whispered, hoping reason would work where strength could not.
"Hm." His muffled response was half-asleep, but instead of releasing me, he pulled me closer. My back hit his chest, his entire frame wrapping around me like he wanted to shield me from the world.
"Richard…" My voice was soft, half a plea, half frustration.
"Five more minutes," he murmured into my hair, his lips brushing against me with every word. The vibration of his voice against my skin made my heart stumble.
His warmth, his presence, the way he fit so naturally against me... it was too much. Too intimate. Too familiar. And yet, I couldn't remember when we had ever shared mornings like this before.
My fingers twitched, caught between pushing him away and holding on.
Five more minutes… Would that be enough to keep my walls from breaking?