Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Leanne never set foot in Curtis' company.

When Elite Pinnacle was just a fledgling firm, their relationship had hit an all-time low.

But as Elite Pinnacle rose to prominence on Bullion Boulevard, growing at an unrivaled pace to join the ranks of the world’s top investment banks, Leanne remained a stranger to the land of Emberland throughout more than two years Curtis spent there.

She didn’t know where he lived there, nor had she ever been invited.

She wasn’t brave enough to barge in where she wasn’t welcome.

Just like when Curtis had decided to move to Emberland, his recent decision to return stateside to further his career hadn’t included a conversation with Leanne.

Whether it was business or personal affairs, he never felt the need to include her.

Towering skyscrapers pierced the clouds. As Leanne stepped out of her car, she shrugged off her white lab coat.

She had rushed out in such a hurry that she had forgotten to change out of her coat. Walking into a corporate office looking like she was about to perform a medical examination would raise a few eyebrows.

She might as well be chasing down a runaway patient from a psychiatric ward.

Upon entering the building, the receptionist held her up.

“I’m here to see Curtis,” Leanne said.

The receptionist gave her a few extra looks when she heard her call Curtis by his first name. After confirming she didn’t know Leanne, the receptionist asked by the book, “Do you have an appointment?”

A spur-of-the-moment thought had led Leanne here, without any prior plan to make an appointment.

She was so unused to this process. The notion of needing an appointment to see her husband hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Just then, the receptionist nodded to someone, “Mr. Caleb.”

In a hurry, he nodded back and was about to walk right past when he caught sight of the commotion at the reception and came to an abrupt halt, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on Leanne.

“What are you doing here, my lady?” He refrained from calling her Mrs. Richardson in public, a consideration Leanne pretended not to understand.

“Is Curtis in?”

“Mr. Richardson flew out to Emberland the day before yesterday. He still has some matters to attend to there,” replied Caleb.

Leanne nodded.

Curtis came and went as he pleased, and she was always the last to know.

Caleb glanced at his watch, “If it’s urgent, you could try giving him a call. It’s ten at night over in Emberland. Mr. Richardson probably hasn’t retired for the evening yet.”

Leanne nodded, “Alright. You go on with your day.”

The receptionist, noticing Caleb’s respectful demeanor towards Leanne and considering his position as Curtis’ right-hand man, deduced that Leanne must be someone of significance, especially with her striking looks.

The young receptionist at the desk couldn’t take her eyes off Leanne, a mix of curiosity and panic in her gaze, fearful she had inadvertently offended someone important and would pay for it later.

As Leanne turned to leave, seeing the girl’s near-tearful remorse, she offered a comforting word, “Don’t worry. You’re about to bite through your lip.”

Her tone was as gentle as her expression.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

The receptionist blinked in confusion, but Leanne had already turned and walked away.

Stepping out of the office building, a cold breeze swiftly penetrated her sweater, sending chills to her skin.

Leanne pulled out her phone and dialed Curtis’ number.

The metallic gray of the central business district’s architecture gave off an air of modernity, and the natural stone paving of the streets looked cold and unwelcoming.

Leanne’s hands quickly grew numb.

Curtis used to warm her hands, sometimes even tucking them inside his coat for faster relief. The heat from his firm waist muscles would seep through the fabric, enveloping Leanne’s icy fingers in a cozy warmth.

At those moments, she would always be wrapped in his embrace.

It took a while before the phone was finally answered.

She opened her mouth, but the courage that had propelled her here vanished without a trace.

She scolded herself internally, feeling as reliable as a nervous horse on the battlefield.

Without a word from her, and none from the other end.