Chapter 50: The Morning After

Alejandro woke earlier than usual the following morning.

He brushed his teeth, shaved more carefully than he normally bothered to, and took a shower. Only after drying off and changing into a robe did he find himself standing in front of the full-length mirror in his dressing room.

For the first time in a long while, Alejandro actually looked.

He looked tired.

Older too.

The lines around his eyes had deepened over the years, made more noticeable by the faint bags beneath them. Gray had spread through his hair, particularly around the temples, while years of drinking far too much coffee had left some staining on his teeth.

None of this was exactly new.

Alejandro simply hadn’t cared enough to examine it closely before.

Today, apparently, he did.

He leaned toward the mirror and ran a hand over his jaw, checking for anything he might have missed while shaving.

Then came his hair.

Alejandro combed it neatly, frowned at the result, and tried again before deciding the first way had looked better.

Ridiculous.

Rosalie had seen him looking considerably worse than this.

She’d been his wife, for God’s sake.

Still, he checked his nails and trimmed one that had grown uneven, then gave the rest of his appearance another inspection.

Choosing what to wear proved equally annoying.

A suit felt too formal for going downstairs. The old shirt he normally would’ve thrown on without a second thought suddenly seemed too careless.

Eventually, Alejandro settled on a clean button-down and dark trousers. Presentable without making it obvious that he’d spent far longer than necessary deciding what to wear.

Which, technically, he hadn’t.

Not quite.

He fastened his watch and slipped on freshly polished shoes, then returned to the mirror one last time.

Better.

Not younger.

He wasn’t trying to be.

Just better.

Alejandro straightened his collar, then briefly considered putting on cologne.

His hand even reached for the bottle before he stopped.

No.

Rosalie might find that a little too much for their first morning together.

Better not to look like he was trying quite that hard.

He left the cologne where it was.

Rosalie was somewhere under the same roof.

That single thought was apparently enough to make a grown man check his hair one more time before leaving the bedroom.

Rosalie had always been able to tell when morning arrived without looking at a clock.

For several moments, however, she couldn’t quite remember where she was.

Then the old clock chimed somewhere down the corridor.

Once.

Twice.

The sound drifted through the partially open door, familiar enough that her chest tightened before she could stop it.

Rosalie sat on the edge of the bed as morning light filtered through the curtains.

Outside, a rooster crowed with all the confidence of something convinced the sun required personal instruction.

Another answered from farther away.

Before long, the distant barking of the Shih Tzus joined the morning noise, followed by the occasional sound of livestock stirring farther out on the property.

Rosalie closed her eyes.

The house still sounded like home.

That was almost harder than if nothing had been familiar at all.

She had insisted on sleeping in one of the guest rooms for her first night back. It had felt easier that way.

This morning, however, she found herself making a little more effort than usual to prepare for the day.

She didn’t have much with her. Most of what she owned now fit inside the luggage she had brought home, and seeing so few clothes hanging in the wardrobe made her wonder what had happened to everything she’d left behind years ago.

Were her old things still somewhere in the house?

Or had someone eventually decided she wasn’t coming back and disposed of them?

She would ask later.

For now, Rosalie took a long bath.

It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself that simple luxury. Afterward, she sat in front of the mirror and fixed her hair properly before putting on a little makeup.

Her hands weren’t quite as practiced as they used to be.

Rosalie smiled faintly when she had to correct what she’d done.

Apparently, some things did require practice.

She chose the nicest outfit from the few she’d packed and paired it with her only pair of flats. Then she took out an old nail clipper she had somehow managed to keep all these years and carefully trimmed her nails.

No polish.

She didn’t need it.

When she was finished, Rosalie studied herself in the mirror.

The years were there.

The tiredness beneath her eyes remained visible, and much of her hair had turned white. With some darker strands still mixed in, however, the silver almost looked like highlights.

She looked good.

More importantly, she felt good.

Rosalie couldn’t remember the last time she’d made this much effort just to feel presentable.

Perhaps it was silly to do so for breakfast.

Then again, her husband would be downstairs.

Alejandro came downstairs first.

He had barely reached the bottom of the staircase when he stopped and looked around the entrance hall.

"Were these curtains washed recently?"

The housekeeper followed his gaze.

"Not recently, sir. They were cleaned several months ago."

"Several months?"

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro walked over and rubbed the fabric’s edge between his fingers.

"Have them changed today. Check the ones in the sitting room as well."

"Of course, sir."

He made it only a few steps farther before noticing the vase of flowers on the console table.

"Take those out to the veranda."

The housekeeper looked toward the arrangement.

"Is there something wrong with them, sir?"

"No. Rosalie never liked cut flowers very much."

Alejandro glanced around the entrance hall.

"She prefers plants that last. Put something potted there instead."

"We have several suitable plants in the greenhouse, sir."

"Good. Nothing too large."

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro continued toward the dining room, though apparently getting there required inspecting half the house along the way.

"Were the floors done this morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"And the guest room?"

"It was cleaned before Mrs. Vance arrived, sir. She asked for privacy this morning, so we’ll attend to the room later."

Alejandro nodded.

"Good."

The housekeeper followed a few steps behind him, quietly pleased by the change.

For years, Alejandro had left the household almost entirely in their hands. As long as everything functioned properly, he rarely asked when curtains had last been washed or what plants were displayed in the entrance hall.

He simply hadn’t cared.

This morning, he seemed to notice everything.

The staff didn’t have to wonder why.

Mrs. Vance was home.

Alejandro had already gathered them the previous evening to make his expectations clear.

"No questions unless she starts the conversation herself," he’d told them. "And whatever happens inside this house stays here. I don’t want anyone calling old neighbors to tell them Rosalie is back."

The staff had listened quietly.

"Mrs. Vance needs time," Alejandro continued. "Give it to her. Let her settle in at her own pace."

"Yes, sir."

That had been the end of it.

Now, apparently satisfied that the rest of the house was in order, Alejandro turned his attention to breakfast.

The meal was simple but filling. There was rice and eggs, warm bread, and a meat dish. Fresh fruit had been prepared as well.

"That’s enough," Alejandro said. "Don’t add anything else. She doesn’t need a banquet first thing in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

His attention moved to the coffee service.

"There’s fresh coffee?"

"Yes, sir."

"Milk and sugar?"

"Both are on the table, sir."

Alejandro looked.

They were.

"Good."

The housekeeper waited while he inspected the table.

"Would you like anything else prepared, sir?"

Alejandro thought about it, then shook his head.

"No. Just make sure the food stays warm until she comes down."

"Of course."

"And don’t hover during breakfast."

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro nodded, satisfied.

The housekeeper excused herself, leaving him alone in the dining room.

For a moment, Alejandro simply stood there.

The house was clean. Breakfast was ready.

Everything was as it should be.

But now that there was nothing left for him to check, he suddenly realized he was waiting for his wife to come downstairs for breakfast.

Then, for no particular reason, he checked his hair in the glass cabinet’s reflection.

Still fine.

Good.

From the hallway came the faint sound of footsteps on the stairs.

Alejandro immediately looked toward the door.

Rosalie was coming down.