Love at First Night: The Billionaire's First Love-Chapter 82: Just a husband who yearns

>Venzrich

I placed my tablet down carefully on the smooth surface of my desk, making sure it didn’t make a sound. The screen dimmed, then faded to black, reflecting my tired face for a brief second before disappearing completely. The office was quiet—too quiet actually.

The kind of quiet that pressed against your ears and made your thoughts louder.

I rolled my shoulders back slowly, stretching until I felt a dull pop run down my spine. A low sigh slipped past my lips as I leaned back into my swivel chair. The leather creaked softly under my weight. My tie felt tight around my neck, so I reached up and loosened it, tugging it down just enough to breathe easier.

My thumb brushed over my lips without me realizing it, a habit I picked up long ago whenever I was thinking too much. I crossed one leg over the other and stared up at the ceiling.

I could’ve sworn there wasn’t this much work when I decided to push all my meetings back last week. I remembered signing off on it, thinking it would give me space while I take care of my wife, indeed it was the longest and most enjoyable break I had for years.

Instead, the workload doubled, meetings stacked one after another like an endless wall. Every time I finished one, another waited.

They never seemed to fucking end. It’s so frustrating.

I shut my eyes.

And just like that, she appeared.

Her face came to me easily, clear and warm, like she had never left my side. I could almost see the way her eyes softened when she smiled, the small crease that formed between her brows when she focused too hard on something simple.

Then there was her scent—that soft, calming lavender that clung to her clothes and followed her wherever she went.

It always hit me the hardest when I was alone.

If my choice hadn’t come with a price worth billions, I wouldn’t be sitting in this office right now.

I’d be home.

I’d be standing in the doorway, watching her fold laundry on the couch. She’d have that serious little frown on her face, lips pressed together as she smoothed out stubborn wrinkles. She always got annoyed when the fabric didn’t behave, when sleeves twisted the wrong way or socks refused to match.

I could hear it too—her quiet muttering under her breath, barely loud enough to catch.

Complaints aimed at the clothes, but she never once complained about her life. Then her lips would push into a small pout, cheeks puffing slightly, before softening again the moment she realized I was watching.

I could picture the exact moment she’d look up, startled, when I handed her a folded shirt even though she insisted she could do it herself. Her hands would pause mid-motion, eyes widening just a little.

And then there was the guilt.

It always showed so clearly on her face whenever I did something small for her—pouring her a glass of water, reaching for something she didn’t ask for, fixing a loose thread on her sleeve. She’d glance at me like I was doing too much, like she didn’t deserve it.

She never understood how much I loved those moments.

Doing things for her wasn’t a burden. It was my peace.

A slow breath left my chest as I dragged a hand down my face. My fingers pressed briefly against my eyes, as if that might ease the ache building behind them. When my hand dropped back to the armrest, my shoulders felt heavier.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

I missed my wife so badly it hurt.

Not the sharp kind of pain that came and went—but a deep, dull ache that settled in my chest and refused to move. Some days it was manageable. Other days, like today, it felt unbearable.

I was one bad meeting away from dumping everything onto Noel’s shoulders and disappearing with her. Consequences be damned.

A soft knock broke through my thoughts.

I straightened slightly as reality snapped back into place. The door opened just enough for a familiar figure to step inside.

Noel stood there, posture straight, expression serious as always. "Young Master," he said calmly, "the investors have arrived."

I inhaled deeply, then opened my eyes. The image of her faded, leaving behind the familiar weight of responsibility pressing down on me once more. Responsibility that never seemed to bother me that much until I met her.

"I’ll be there," I replied.

Leaning forward, I planted my feet firmly on the floor and stood up. I adjusted my tie again, smoothing out a small crease at the center. My hands brushed over my sleeves, flicking away invisible dust.

My suit hung neatly on the rack by the wall. I grabbed it and slipped it on, rolling my shoulders once to settle the fabric into place. The weight of it felt like armor, it felt suffocating.

As I walked toward the door, Noel stepped aside and followed behind me, closing it softly. The click echoed faintly down the hallway.

I paused mid-step and glanced at him.

"Free my schedule next week," I said without slowing down. "I want to spend it with my wife."

He blinked. "Pardon?" His voice carried clear confusion.

I didn’t bother explaining. I simply kept walking, heading straight for the boardroom. I could hear his footsteps behind me, quickening as he tried to keep up.

The boardroom was already full when we arrived.

Time blurred together once I took my seat.

Voices filled the room, one after another, overlapping with empty praise and predictable comments. I nodded when needed, responded when required, but none of it truly reached me.

The same boring phrases repeated again and again—how impressive my leadership was, how confident they felt in the company’s future, how honored they were to work with me.

My fingers tapped lightly against the table without rhythm. Every time my gaze lifted, I noticed how stiff everyone became when our eyes met. They sat straighter, spoke clearer, laughed louder.

I lowered my eyes to the documents in front of me.

If it weren’t for these useless old fools, I’d be with my wife right now.

The meeting finally came to an end. Chairs scraped against the floor as the investors stood, pleased expressions plastered across their faces. They clapped their hands, their heads nodded.

"Then I’ll look forward to our partnership starting today," one of the European investors said. His blue eyes squinted as he smiled, deep lines forming at the corners. I struggled to remember his name.

"It’s my pleasure," I replied as we walked out through the glass doors.

I checked my watch.

I’m going home after this.

The thought alone lifted my mood. I could already imagine the tea she’d make for me, the way she always warmed the cup first.

One of the men laughed and reached out his hand. "CEO Archeval, it’s always a pleasure working with you."

I accepted the handshake, keeping my expression professional. "The feeling is mutual."

That was the moment when I felt it. A pair of eyes staring on me.

Noel leaned closer from behind. "Young Master," he whispered, "Young Madam is here to see you."

My heart skipped.

I nearly left the conversation right then and there. Nearly turned and ran toward her without care for who was watching.

God knew how much I missed her.

Another investor chuckled. "If you ever find yourself dissatisfied with your marriage," he said casually, "my daughter would be happy to take your wife’s place."

Dissatisfied?

I almost laughed.

If anyone here had the right to feel that way, it was her—not me.

I opened my mouth to shut him down—

Then an idea formed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her standing there. Her gaze was fixed on me, calm but intense.

I wanted to tease her.

Just a little.

So I didn’t deny it right away.

"I’ll keep that in mind," I replied, a slight curve appearing on my lips.

From the corner of my vision, I saw her step forward. Annoyance was written clearly on her face, brows knitting together as she closed the distance between us.

"Excuse me," she interrupted.

Her voice was calm and firm, almost dangerous. But it felt like music in my ears.

The group fell silent. All attention turned to her including me.

And then I truly saw her.

My chest tightened as my eyes landed on her face, the one I had been missing all day. She looked just as beautiful as she did everytime I close my eyes.

She turned to the investors, lips lifting into a polite smile.

"He’s doing just fine," she said, looping her arm through mine. "With me as his wife."

Satisfaction bloomed in my chest.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, our bodies pressing together. Close enough that I could smell the soft lavender scent coming from her.

"As you can see," I added smoothly, "I’m very happy with my wife. I’m afraid you’ll need to find your daughter another man."

Awkward smiles followed, while they exchanged glances. Excuses were made. One by one, they left.

She leaned in as we walked towards my office.

"Husband," she whispered, "just so you know—I’m so fucking pissed right now."

I smiled.

Very worth it.