Rejected billionaire heiress

Chapter 13 Something Was Missing

Cole’s pov

Something was wrong.

I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The house was exactly as it had always been.

The same people.

The same rooms.

The same routines.

And yet…

Something was missing.

I stood at the entrance of the dining room and stared at the table.

Breakfast had been served.

I sat down.

Nobody spoke.

I picked up my fork.

Took one bite.

Then put it down.

“What is this?”

The cook looked nervous.

“Breakfast, sir.”

“I know that.”

I stared at the plate.

It wasn’t bad.

It just wasn’t what I wanted.

I frowned.

“Who made it?”

“Cook did, sir.”

I nodded.

Then pushed the plate away.

I didn’t understand why I was irritated.

For months, Amelia had prepared my breakfast.

I had never asked her to.

She simply did it.

And somehow, I had gotten used to it.

I looked at the empty chair across from me.

Her chair.

I immediately looked away.

Why am I thinking about her?

She was my wife.

My arrangement.

Nothing more.

At least, that was what I had always told myself.

So why did the empty chair bother me?

⸻

“Where is Amelia?”

The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

Silence.

I looked up.

Susan’s expression changed.

Lisa glanced at Harold.

Nobody answered.

My irritation grew.

“I asked a question.”

Susan cleared her throat.

“She’s probably in the kitchen.”

I frowned.

“No.”

I looked toward the doorway.

“She’s not.”

Susan looked uncomfortable.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen her this morning.”

Lisa shrugged.

“Maybe she’s sleeping.”

“Amelia doesn’t sleep this late.”

The words came out automatically.

Everyone stared at me.

I frowned.

Why did I know that?

Why did I know when she woke up?

Why did I know how she took her tea?

Why did I know which side of the bed she slept on?

Why did I know that she always hummed quietly when she cooked?

I suddenly realized how much I knew about Amelia.

And how little I had ever thought about knowing her.

I stood.

“Where is she?”

Susan’s eyes flickered.

“She’s probably somewhere around the house.”

I walked out.

⸻

I checked the kitchen first.

Empty.

Her small things were gone.

The little mug she always used wasn’t there.

I opened the pantry.

Nothing.

I walked upstairs.

Her things weren’t in our bedroom.

I stopped.

My heart gave an unfamiliar pull.

Her side of the wardrobe was empty.

I opened the bathroom.

Her toiletries were gone.

I stared at the empty shelves.

She had left.

The realization settled slowly.

I walked back downstairs.

“Paul.”

The old butler appeared almost immediately.

“Sir?”

“Where is Amelia?”

Paul looked at me.

For a moment, something passed through his eyes.

Sadness.

Then he lowered his head.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“When did you last see her?”

“Yesterday.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

I stared at him.

“You’re telling me my wife disappeared from this house and nobody knows where she went?”

Paul remained silent.

My anger rose.

“How could nobody know?”

Paul looked at me.

“Perhaps because nobody asked her.”

His words stopped me.

I stared at him.

Paul rarely spoke out of turn.

“Explain.”

He hesitated.

Then shook his head.

“Nothing, sir.”

I turned away.

Something about his expression bothered me.

But before I could question him further, Susan entered.

“Cole.”

I looked at her.

“I need to speak to you.”

“About Amelia?”

She smiled.

“I was actually going to say that perhaps this is for the best.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“She clearly wasn’t suited to this family.”

I stared at my mother.

“She’s my wife.”

Susan sighed.

“You know what I mean.”

“No.”

I didn’t.

Not anymore.

⸻

I walked into my office.

I tried to work.

I couldn’t.

I read the same email three times.

Signed the same document twice.

Eventually, I threw the pen onto my desk.

This was ridiculous.

I had spent years managing billion-dollar deals without losing focus.

Yet one missing woman had somehow turned my mind into chaos.

I leaned back.

Amelia.

I thought about the first time I had seen her.

Sleeping in my bedroom.

I’d thought Harold had sent her there as some ridiculous prank.

She had looked so peaceful.

Then she’d opened her eyes.

And screamed.

I almost smiled at the memory.

Almost.

Then I remembered everything that came after.

Her cooking.

Her quiet footsteps.

The way she always waited for me at dinner.

The way she never complained when I ignored her.

The way she would look at me and quickly look away whenever I caught her staring.

I had noticed.

I had simply never questioned it.

Now I was questioning everything.

⸻

That evening, I came home earlier than usual.

I don’t know why.

Perhaps I expected to find her there.

I walked through the front door.

Nothing.

No soft footsteps.

No quiet voice asking whether I had eaten.

No smell of whatever she had been cooking.

The house was silent.

For the first time, I realized how much noise Amelia had brought into my life without ever being loud.

She had been everywhere.

Not because she demanded attention.

Because she quietly made herself part of everything.

My coffee.

My meals.

My clothes.

My schedule.

My home.

My life.

I stopped walking.

My life.

The thought unsettled me.

When had that happened?

When had Amelia stopped being an arrangement and become a part of my everyday existence?

I didn’t know.

And that frightened me more than it should have.

⸻

At dinner, I sat alone.

I barely touched my food.

Miranda called.

I stared at the phone.

Normally, I would answer immediately.

Tonight, I didn’t.

It rang again.

And again.

I finally answered.

“Hello.”

“Cole?”

Her voice sounded weak.

“I was wondering where you were.”

“I’m home.”

“Can I come over?”

I closed my eyes.

“No.”

There was silence.

“Are you angry with me?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you want me there?”

I didn’t know how to answer.

Because for the first time, I didn’t want anyone there.

I wanted…

I stopped the thought.

“Another time.”

I ended the call.

Then looked at the empty chair across from me.

Amelia would have been sitting there.

She would have asked whether I wanted dessert.

She would have complained that I wasn’t eating enough.

She would have smiled when I told her the food was good.

I rubbed my forehead.

This was insane.

I missed her.

The realization came quietly.

I missed my wife.

I leaned back in my chair.

Then another thought followed.

Where did she go?

And for the first time since Amelia had entered my life…

I was afraid I might not know how to bring her back.