Too Late For Regrets [Extra #1]

Part 17

Time flew by in the blink of an eye. Uneventful days turned into boring weeks, which I spent mostly at work, doing all I could to not stay at my husband's house. It was two months since the wedding and both my husband and I were back to our normal routines.

Until one day, our peace was broken.

Around lunchtime, as I was working in my room, I heard a commotion in the kitchen. It sounded like the housekeeper was yelling at the maids. Normally, I wouldn't have cared, but they mentioned something about possibly killing their boss – my husband.

I quickly went to see what the issue was, only to see the housekeeper throw a pot at the maid who was kneeling on the floor, crying pitifully as she apologized profusely. I didn't like the scene. "What is going on here?"

"It's nothing, Madam," the housekeeper responded nervously when she realized I saw her nasty behavior. "I was just scolding the maid because of her mistake."

"And what mistake is that?"

"She gave Sir the wrong lunchbox. Sir said he would be extremely busy today and asked us to pack his lunch, but the maid packed the wrong one."

"I'm not sure I understand. Explain further."

"The meal that Sir brought with him contains seafood seasoning. And Sir is terribly allergic to that," the housekeeper explained with a worried frown, then showed me her phone. "I've been trying to call him, but he's not picking up his phone and I can't reach his secretary either. I don't know what to do."

"But he's at the company, right?"

"Yes, I believe so."

God, just when I thought I would have a peaceful day, something came up. As much as I didn't like bothering my husband, because we agreed to stay away from each other's business, I knew the matter had to be taken care of quickly, otherwise I would've become a widow. And that would be much more troublesome than staying married for two years.

"Give me the lunch you prepared and I'll take it to him. It's almost lunchtime, so there's no time to argue."

"I was about to send the driver with it..." the housekeeper retorted with a calm smile.

"The traffic is horrible. He might not make it in time. My bike is faster," I asserted. They didn't argue further and packed the boxes into the leather backpack I brought from my bedroom. Thankfully I was dressed appropriately for a bike ride, so I didn't need to change and could be on my way.

I reached my husband's company within minutes, and once I reached the tall building, I confidently went inside. It was the only time I was grateful for the articles about our marriage. Thanks to them, I was easily recognized as the boss's wife and no one tried to stop me. Since I didn't know what floor my husband's office was at, I went to the reception desk and asked the guy working there about it.

He politely told me that it was on the top floor. I thanked him and went to the elevator. Everything was surprisingly quiet, but I ignored it. It was possible that the employees were simply busy. It was really different from my company.

I reached the top floor in no time. And once again I was shocked by how dreary the place was. Not my style, at all.

I easily found the office that belonged to my husband, then unceremoniously went in, only to see my husband sitting at his desk. There was also a familiar-looking guy sitting in front of him, but I paid no attention to them. I was more interested in preventing my husband's untimely death rather than his conversation with the other guy. And the culprit for that death I was about to prevent was right in front of my eyes, casually laid out on the glass table.

"What are you doing here?" my husband asked, clearly shocked that I was there. "How did you get in?"

"Don't worry about me," I told him offhandedly, then put my backpack on the table and calmly unpacked the lunch that the maids prepared for him. Once I was done exchanging the lethal meal for the right one, I turned to my husband. "Enjoy your meal," I told him, mockingly saluting him, then walked out of the room.

I had nothing else to do there, so I decided to go for lunch. But before I could even leave the building, I was caught by none other than my husband. "Wait!" he panted as he kept the elevator door from closing. "I just got a call from home..."

"So they finally reached you... Okay," I nodded.

My husband reached out his hand to me, then asked with a smile, "Are you too busy to have lunch with your husband?"

I wasn't exactly busy, so I gave in with a sigh. "No, I have nothing to do now."

"Then shall we?" he took my hand in his then we went back to his office, where the oddly familiar man was still sitting by the desk with an annoyingly smug smirk on his face.

"Look who's here, the lovebirds of the century."

"Fuck off, man," my husband grumbled. I sat quietly on the armchair by the glass table and watched in amusement as my husband tried to get the other guy to leave. He was adamant about staying in the room, as if he saw as a source of entertainment. Since he felt strangely familiar to me, I tried to recall where I'd seen him before.

However, my husband managed to get him outside before I managed to remember.

"I'm sorry about him. He's my friend but sometimes he can be really annoying," my husband apologized as he sat locked the door and came to sit across from me.

"Your friend... I guess he was at the wedding."

"He was."

Now I knew why I recognized him. He was there on the day I got married. It also made sense why he was so amused when he saw us together. He knew about the deal. I was sure about it.

"I got a call from home earlier. They said that there was something wrong with my lunch so you were on your way to bring the right one. I didn't know you were so worried about my health," my husband smiled warmly as he arranged his meal.

"Speaking of that, I saw something disturbing. The housekeeper was scolding the maid for packing the wrong lunch for you, but then she launched a pot at the girl."

"What? That's impossible, she wouldn't do that. She's been working for me for years, and I never had any complaints..."

I knew he wouldn't believe me. I was just an outsider who accused his trusted worker of harassing others. "It's up to you if you believe it or not. I'm just sharing my observations."

"I'll look into that. But you know, managing the house is usually the madam's job..." he smirked. I didn't like the emphasis he put on the word 'madam'. It sounded like he was mocking me.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that you're the lady of the house. You can discipline the staff as you see fit."

"Oh no, no, no. I am not going to assume the role of the lady of the house. I'm only a temporary tenant. There's no need to change how things are for such short time."

I instantly realized that my words hurt my husband. He didn't seem to like hearing about the inevitable end of our marriage, though I didn't understand why. He was well aware of the fact that our contract was a fixed-term agreement that would eventually come to an end. It was irrational to keep getting upset over it.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're still my wife, not a tenant who lives in my house," my husband added after a while. His tone left no room for discussion. It was no use arguing with him about that.

As we ate, I asked him about my sister. I was slightly curious about what she was up to, especially since she was brutally ignored by the very man she wanted to tie down with a baby.

I did not expect to hear the truth.

My sister wasn't pregnant.