The Chubby Wife He Couldn't Forget

Chapter 5

CAMDEN

I was already dressed and ready for battle by 6:45 a.m. Dad’s empire didn’t run on excuses, and discipline was his religion. Even with a brand-new wife sleeping in my bed, I had reports to review and meetings to dominate. I stood before the full-length mirror, wrestling with the navy tie like it was a living snake. Suits I could handle. This damn knot? Eternal nemesis.

The sheets rustled behind me. Daisy stirred on the bed, sitting up slowly, her hair a cute mess and eyes still heavy with sleep. She blinked at me in my half-finished suit, and for a second, something soft crossed her face.

“Good morning,” I said, flashing her a quick smile while yanking at the tie again.

“Morning,” she replied quietly, her voice was a little raspy. She slipped out of bed in the oversized t-shirt I’d given her last night and padded toward the restroom. I tried not to stare, but damn, the way the shirt skimmed her thighs...

By the time she returned, her face was fresh and hair was brushed, I was still fighting the tie. My fingers fumbled for the third time. Perfect. Just perfect.

Daisy paused, watching me. Then a small laugh escaped her mouth, it was light, genuine, and unexpectedly musical.

I turned, and raised my eyebrow. “What’s so funny, escape artist?”

“You,” she said, crossing her arms with a spark of that fire I’d seen yesterday. “A whole future CEO, heir to billions, and you can’t tie your own tie? It’s kind of hilarious. Do they teach you stock markets and mergers but skip basic adulting in rich people school?”

I chuckled, dropping my hands in defeat. “Laugh it up. Some of us were too busy building empires to master fabric origami. My last assistant used to do it, but she quit after I made her redo it seventeen times one morning.”

Daisy shook her head, still smiling. That smile did dangerous things to the room. “Seventeen times? No wonder she left. Here, let me.”

She walked right up to me. Close. Too close. Her scent.....was simple and sweet, like vanilla and defiance. She wrapped around me as she reached for the tie. Our lips were inches apart. I could see the faint freckles on her nose, the way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. My hands stayed raised awkwardly from my earlier attempts, frozen in mid-air.

She grabbed the tie with steady fingers, looping and pulling with practiced ease. I should have been embarrassed, but instead I was... captivated. My gaze dropped for a second. Wow. She really did have a nice shape—those generous curves that filled out the t-shirt in all the right ways, soft and feminine and real. Nothing like the stick figures Mom pushed on me. Heat stirred low in my gut.

“There!” she announced, patting the knot perfectly centered. She looked up, and our eyes locked. Time slowed. Those warm brown eyes held mine with a mix of nervousness and something warmer, almost hopeful. The spark from yesterday flared brighter. I wanted to lean in, to see if her lips tasted as sweet as her unexpected smile.

A sharp knock shattered the moment.

“Young Master Camden,” the butler called through the door, “Mrs. Whitmore requests your presence at the breakfast table. She says she has a perfect visitor for you.”

I exhaled, stepping back reluctantly. “We should go have breakfast,” I told Daisy, catching her hand. She nodded without a word, but I felt the slight tension in her fingers. That protective instinct flared again. I squeezed gently as we headed downstairs.

The dining room smelled like fresh coffee, croissants, and trouble. Mom sat at the head of the long table, looking far too pleased with herself. And there, rising from her chair like a runway model reborn, was Olivia.

“Camden!” Olivia squealed, rushing forward in a cloud of expensive perfume and flowing hair. She threw herself at me in a tight hug that nearly knocked me off balance. Her arms wrapped around my neck like we were still together. “My love! Pookie, I’ve missed you so much. You look even hotter than last year.”

She pulled back just enough to cup my cheeks and plant a quick peck dangerously close to my mouth. “Remember our trip to Santorini? We have to do that again, baby.”

I stiffened, gently but firmly disentangling myself. “Olivia...”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Daisy freeze. She glanced at Mom, who was calmly sipping her orange juice with a satisfied little smile, her fork delicately stabbing at her eggs like she’d just orchestrated a masterpiece.

Olivia finally noticed Daisy standing there. She stared her up and down with blatant appraisal, then stretched out a perfectly manicured hand. “Hi... I’m Olivia, Camden’s girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected immediately,my voice sharp.

Daisy’s face stayed carefully blank, but I caught the flash of pain in her eyes. "Ohh f**k me, he has a girlfriend?" I could practically hear the thought screaming behind that forced composure. The same blank wall from last night—the one that said she’d been kicked enough times to stop expecting kindness.

Olivia didn’t miss a beat. Her smile turned syrupy sweet but venomous. “Oh, you must be the chunky little wife they told me about.”

The words landed like a slap. Daisy’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t flinch away. She just stood there, absorbing it—the same way she’d absorbed her mother’s insults, the family’s dismissal, Mom’s disappointed “Oh.”

My blood heated. I stepped closer to Daisy, slipping an arm around her waist in a clear claim. “Mind your language, Olivia. You will not speak to my wife like that.”