Chapter 6

“You should go to Mr. Bradford’s office and apologize,” Lia, my best friend and coworker, said behind me as I made my way to the kitchen. Panic was evident in her clear blue eyes.

“I won't,” I replied firmly. That's never gonna happen, I thought to myself.

“But you'll get fired!” she blurted, forcing everyone in the kitchen to look at us. I mumbled an apology and grabbed Lia’s arms, ushering her to the empty hallway for privacy.

“Mr. Bradford would be doing me a great favor if he fired me,” I replied nonchalantly. “In fact, I’ve been planning to resign to prepare the necessary paperwork to work abroad.”

Lia's mouth parted. For a moment, she couldn’t say a word. “B-but why so sudden?” She asked after she recovered.

“I received an offer and it has several irresistible benefits. Going abroad will also benefit Mom. She will have access to better medical care.”

“Is that the only reason you're leaving?” Lia eyed me suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“You're a good liar,” she told me in her usually soft-spoken tone. “I’ve been friends with you for years—four years, to be exact. That’s enough time for me to know when you’re hiding something. You're married, aren’t you? Your husband is our boss.”

I laughed nervously. “You're mistaken, Lia. Mr. Bradford and I have nothing to do with each other.”

I walked away, signaling the end of the conversation but her next words stopped me. “I was there. I was there when your husband asked for a divorce,” Lia finally revealed, watching my composure crumble. “I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but I was seated behind you, and I heard everything.”

The color drained from my face. So she knew…

“I acted dumb, waiting for you to spill the truth, but I can't keep on pretending not to know. So drop the act Lily. I'm not as clueless as you think.”

I leaned against the wall, swallowing the lump in my throat. I finally let the walls I built around myself crumble.

“I wanted to tell you everything, but each time I tried, I turned tail.”

"It wasn't a real marriage," I added. "Grey never loved me. But he wasn't entirely evil. He helped pay Mom's medical bills. He gave me everything I need.”

Lia moved closer, taking my trembling hands in hers. The warmth of her touch broke something inside me.

"I'm sorry I kept this from you," I mumbled under my breath.

She pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m not in a position to hate you for keeping secrets from me, Lily, because I have a lot of secrets too that I'm not comfortable sharing with anyone. I understand how you feel.”

We stood there for what felt like hours as my best friend comforted me. For the first time since Grey asked for the divorce, I felt lighter, like sharing my secret had lifted some of the crushing weight from my chest.

"Thank you for not judging me."

"That's what best friends are for," Lia smiled. “I won’t stop you from whatever decision you make, Lily. Just do what you think is best for you. I will always support you.”

“Thank you. That’s all I wanted to hear,” I replied, wiping the tears from the corner of my eye.

“It’s almost our opening time. Shall we go to the dining area?”

I nodded.

Lia grabbed my hand, and we returned to the restaurant.

The hand of the wall clock turned exactly at ten. As if on cue, the magnificent glass door of the restaurant parted open, signaling that we were ready to take customers.

The employees scattered to their posts before the first guest arrived, clad in fine silk and an expensive tuxedo.

I stood at the door and greeted my first customer. A young couple. I wished them good morning. They both looked at me. Usually, wealthy guests would snub a waitress, but this couple turned and smiled, greeting me back cheerfully.

“A gem,” I thought to myself. That is how I labeled courteous guests like them, as they were rare and valuable. I had the highest respect for them.

“May I ask if you have reservations?”

“Yes, we do,” the woman answered, surveying me with her intent amber eyes.

I self-consciously touched my face, wondering if there was dirt on it. Guests often stared at me for a long time, but this woman was overdoing it. Was she surprised my eyes looked different? One green and one blue?

Clearing my throat, I asked for their family name.

“Blaze,” the man replied, wearing a bewildered expression, just like the woman beside him. I felt unnecessarily self-conscious and wanted to check my reflection in the mirror to see what was wrong.

“Mr. and Mrs. Blaze, please follow me.” I ushered the couple to a table in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, which offered a clear view of the magnificent rose garden outside.

The man pulled out a chair for his wife.

I placed their menus on the pristine white tablecloth, but before I could recite the day's specials, the woman spoke.

"I'm sorry if I'm being forward, but you look remarkably like someone," she said, her amber eyes still studying my face with fascination. "Have you ever modeled before?"

"No, ma'am," I replied politely, though I was growing increasingly uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

Her husband leaned forward. "We were at an art gallery last week, and there's this stunning new painting. The resemblance is uncanny – you could be her twin."

"I assure you, I've never modeled for any painting. Perhaps it's just a coincidence.” I cleared my throat. “Would you like to hear about our specials for today?"

After taking their order, I made my way to the counter.

“She really looks like the woman in the painting,” I heard the woman say. I didn’t catch the man’s response because I was already far away from them.

Reaching the counter, I handed the note to the cashier, who then passed it to the kitchen staff.

I hurried to greet the next customer, trying to shake off the strange comments from the couple about my supposed resemblance to a painting.

The clicking of heels against the marble floor echoed through the restaurant as a woman walked in, her designer dress flowing elegantly with each step.

"Good morning, welcome to—" The words died in my throat as I lifted my eyes to meet hers.

My heart stopped. The world around me seemed to slow down, sounds becoming muffled.

The woman standing before me had haunted me through countless sleepless nights, appearing in every magazine article that I'd forced myself to read out of curiosity. That perfect oval face, those calculating eyes, the signature red lips that curved into a practiced smile.

My hands shook. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

She hadn't noticed me yet, too busy checking her phone.

I wanted to avoid her, but my feet remained frozen to the spot. Just then, she looked up from her phone, and our eyes met. I will never forget her name. Natalia Romani. My husband's ex-fiancé. His first love.