Chapter 14: They must be a handful .
1066 Words
VANESSA
"She died in here."
The words hit me like a ton of bricks.
The warmth of the water, the gentle touch of his hands—none of it matters anymore. A chill creeps up my spine.
I blink, my heart pounding in my chest. “What?”
Richard says nothing.
And just like that, the beautiful moment shatters into a million tiny pieces.
"Come on, let's get you dried off," Richard murmurs as he steps out of the tub, helping me do the same. We walk back to his bedroom in silence.
Panic flutters in my chest as he pats my skin dry with a towel.
I reach for my dress, but his voice stops me.
“No, just wear this for now.”
He walks over to his closet and returns with a crisp white button-down shirt.
"You'll be more comfortable in this," he says with a soft smile.
I take the shirt and slip it on, but my mind is racing. I want to ask—How did Eva die here? How did the woman he once loved take her last breath in the same tub where we had just shared something so intimate?
The question sits heavy on my tongue, but I can't bring myself to say it. The sadness in his eyes is unmistakable. If speaking about his wife’s death hurts him this much, I won’t push.
Even though fear and unease twist inside me, I don’t want to be the reason he feels more pain.
Richard throws on a set of loungewear and holds out his hand.
“Come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”
Like an obedient child, I take his hand and follow him down the stairs.
The moment we step into the kitchen, my breath catches.
It’s stunning—modern, sleek, and high-tech. Every inch of it screams luxury.
"Wow. Your kitchen is beautiful," I say, still in awe.
His face lights up. “Thank you.”
He helps me onto one of the high stools at the kitchen island, making sure I'm seated safely.
“So, what should I cook for my lady?” he asks, grinning as he swings open the massive French-door refrigerator.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”
He taps his chin, squinting his eyes like a kid deep in thought.
“Lasagna,” he declares.
I watch as he moves around, and my eyes land on the wine bar in the corner. I hadn’t noticed it before. Richard strolls over, grabs a bottle of red wine, and pours us each a glass.
I take a sip, letting the rich flavour coat my tongue.
Richard washes his hands at the sink. He’s meticulous—clean, careful. I like that.
“So, tell me about your childhood,” I say, swirling my glass before setting it down.
A smirk tugs at his lips. “I was a nerd.”
I nearly choke on my wine. “You? A nerd? No way.”
He chuckles—a deep, hearty laugh that lights up his face. For the first time tonight, the sadness in his eyes fades.
He tells me how Vivian, the school beauty queen, was always the centre of attention while he was the quiet, bookish type. The only real distraction in his life was Stacy.
Stacy.
I don’t like her. And I know she doesn’t like me either.
"Amber will be home for the summer," Richard says casually.
"Oh, that’s great," I reply, taking another sip. "I’d love to meet her."
“You will,” he says, sprinkling cheese over the dish.
I wonder what Amber looks like. Does she resemble her late mother? Or does she have Richard’s strong features? There are no pictures of Eva anywhere in the house, so I have no clue.
A thought creeps into my mind. Will Amber like me?
I hope she doesn’t see me as someone trying to replace her mom.
“Do you like kids?” Richard asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Uhm… yes.”
He places the lasagna in the oven and sets the timer.
"I’ve got three kids," I say with a teasing smile.
His brows shoot up.
I laugh. "Not what you’re thinking! They’re my siblings."
A small, relieved smile plays on his lips.
“I have a sister, Harper, and two adorable twin brothers—Collins and Colby,” I say, beaming with pride.
“They must be a handful.” He takes a sip of his wine. “How do you manage?”
“They’re sweet and understanding.”
"Wow, you’re lucky," he murmurs. But then his expression darkens.
"Amber is… different. Ever since Eva passed, she’s been cold and distant. Stubborn." He sighs heavily. "I think it’s her way of dealing with the grief."
My heart aches for him. I reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.
"She’ll come around," I whisper.
He looks at me, his eyes softening. “Maybe introducing her to your siblings would help.”
“That’s a great idea,” I say. “They’re so full of energy and love. Amber might like them.”
Richard nods. “I hope so.”
But then his gaze sharpens. “Wait, Jane… why are you the one taking care of your siblings? What about your mom?”
A lump forms in my throat.
"She… passed away," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Richard frowns. “But earlier, you said she was in Finland, running a business.”
Shit. I messed up.
"The food!" I blurt out, pointing at the oven. "It’s burning!"
Richard rushes over, pulling out the slightly browned lasagna.
He sighs in relief. “Almost ruined it.”
I exhale. Saved by the lasagna.
We skip the dining room and eat right there in the kitchen.
I take my first bite and groan. “Oh my God. This is amazing.”
Richard grins. "Wait until you taste more of my cooking."
I smirk. "Feeling a little cocky, huh?"
We laugh, enjoying the moment. But just as I take another bite, the doorbell rings.
Richard wipes his hands on a napkin. “I’ll get that.”
I nod, sipping my wine as he heads for the door.
A few moments pass. Then the door opens.
Richard steps inside… and behind him walks that son of a b***h.
My stomach drops.
Oh no.
This is not good.
- Writer
