When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

Chapter 18

Richard's POV.

It had been two weeks since I got engaged to Susan, and she was on top of the world.

Everywhere we went, she flashed the ring, her smile wide and bright. At home, she took charge of everything. "We need new curtains," she said one day. The next, it was, "Let's change the dining table. It's too old-fashioned." She wanted to make the house feel 'new,' like a fresh start.

I didn't care much. She could change whatever she wanted. It was her home too now.

But as the days passed, doubts started creeping in, like shadows I couldn't quite shake off.

I remembered what Martins had said. He had looked me in the eyes and asked, 'Are you sure you're happy?'

At the time, I brushed it off. What did he know? I knew what I wanted. I wanted Susan.

I wanted the thrill and the spark, not the dullness I had with...

I paused, trying not to let my mind finish the thought. But it was there.

Sarah.

For all the things I didn't feel for her, she put effort into our marriage. She planned everything-events, dinners, even simple things like managing our household.

She was always involved, making sure everything ran smoothly. There was a structure, a routine that I relied on without even knowing it.

Now, with her gone, things felt... chaotic. I couldn't find my shoes half the time because they weren't where they used to be.

My schedule was a mess because Susan kept filling it with things I didn't even know about until the last minute.

"Richard, have you seen the paint samples?" Susan's voice cut through my thoughts.

She walked into the room, holding a fan of colors. "I'm thinking we should repaint the living room. Make it feel more 'us'. What do you think? Blue, beige, maybe a soft green?" I stared at the colors in her hand, feeling strangely lost. "I don't know, Susan. You pick."

She frowned slightly. "I want us to decide together. It's our home now."

muttered, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Just... pick whatever

herself about rugs and lamps and God knows what else. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples. Why

corner where Sarah's old vase used to sit. It was gone now, replaced

to me, even with the new decoration. I shook my head,

I even thinking about that

in the back of my mind again. "Are

muttered under my breath, trying to convince myself. I made my

Susan, not Sarah. Never

did it feel like something

I had always wanted. She was independent,

She didn't need my constant attention, didn't

think that was perfect. With Susan, things were simple-at least, they

small things. Like when I had a

doing. "Kate would serve you dinner" she'd say, not

didn't expect her to drop everything

used to ask. She'd see the look on my face and say, "Tough day?" Even

sure there was a warm meal, maybe

made a big show of it, but it

never thought I needed that.

I came back from the office, my head pounding. I had spent hours in meetings, and

dropped my briefcase by the door and walked into the living room. Susan was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her tablet. "Hey," I said, collapsing into

was thinking we should redecorate the guest room this weekend. Maybe add a little color." I blinked, trying to keep up. "Uh, sure. Whatever you

said, already back to her tablet. No

my eyes for a moment. I remembered

tension in my voice, and the tired look in my

ask if I wanted to talk about it or just sit

listening?" Susan's voice snapped me back to the

eyes to see her staring at me,

a lighter shade or something bold? You're

sure. Light is fine," I muttered, not

go. I watched her for a moment, trying to find the comfort I