Chris walked through his front door, alone. Dead cold hung heavy in every empty corner. The whole place was wrapped in icy silence.
He called her name softly, almost a whisper, "Rose."
No answer came back.
No warm smile waited for him here anymore. No rich, savory aroma of her famous borscht drifted from the kitchen. Not even the faint, calming scent of the calming herbal flower tea she steeped for him every single day.
Without Rose, Chris was barely half a person. He might as well have been a walking corpse, going through the motions of living with half his soul torn clean away.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and called his assistant, "Book me a flight to Paris. I'm going to find Rose."
This time, he swore to himself that he would never let her go again. He would never let h
