Five Years of Marriage to Mr. Bradford (by Koi Fish) novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Vance yanked the curtains wide, sunlight blasting in and blinding her.

He perched on the bed’s edge, his voice laced with that familiar, deceptive gentleness. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. I bought pizza for you.”

Rebecca blinked in confusion. Had yesterday’s nightmare been just a bad dream? His next words shattered the illusion.

He reached to turn her face toward him. “Come on, let me check if the allergy has subsided.”

She rolled away, hopped out of bed, and made a beeline for the bathroom. While brushing her teeth, she mapped out her day.

The visa holdup left her with free time on her hands. Since she’d be jetting off abroad soon, she decided to visit Josette, who would surely miss her when she was gone.

Today marked Day 15 in her countdown to leaving Vance.

Freshened up, she stepped out to see him parked at the dining table. At this hour, he should’ve been long gone to the office. In

five years, he’d never stuck around for a lazy breakfast.

With him in the way, she nixed eating there. Instead, she decided to grab coffee downstairs, then head to Josette’s for the

signature pasta. Just thinking about it made her mouth water.

She grabbed a bag, stuffing in her visa essentials. It was better to stash them at Josette’s for safekeeping. When the time came, she could bolt from there.

॥

“Where are you going?” Vance called out. “No breakfast?”

“Not your concern,” she replied, heading for the door.

“I got stuff you like,” he stressed.

“Madam,” Nancy chimed

But she relaxed quickly, not believing he’d stay home all the time. Vacations never kept him idle there.

He got up from the table and strolled over, his eyes warm with that old familiar charm. “That brow wrinkling then smoothing out–what’s up? Mad that I never take breaks to hang with you?”

He resembled the version of himself from before Catherine, but even that wasn’t worth pining over.

“You’re overthinking,” she said, slipping on her shoes.

“Wherever you’re going, count me in,” he insisted. “Let’s have breakfast first. Didn’t you crave Neapolitan pizza? I drove half an hour into town this morning to grab it.”

She thanked him but did not stick around. She had savored Neapolitan pizza alone days ago, no longer needing his company,

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Chapter 93