Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

144. Life On Track

(Ryan's Pov)

The fresh morning breeze stirred me awake earlier than usual. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I glanced over and felt an inexplicable sense of relief when I saw Sarah curled up, clutching my pillow, sleeping soundly like a baby. The sight brought a quiet smile to my face. Not wanting to disturb her, I carefully slipped out of bed and headed to the washroom, making sure not to make a sound.

When I came back, I found her sitting up, struggling to tame her messy hair.

"You're up?" I asked, trying not to sound too amused.

She gave a sleepy "Hmm" and, without another word, disappeared into the washroom. I turned back to my desk, organizing my files and preparing for the hospital. The quietness of the morning settled around us, a peaceful routine we both seemed to have fallen into.

A few minutes later, she came out, walking straight downstairs without a word.

When I finally made my way to the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. There on the table, a plate of noodles was already waiting, neatly served.

She appeared beside me, dragging a chair to sit, then casually poured herself a glass of water. Her hair was now tied into a messy bun, and she wore her usual comfortable, loose-fitting clothes. I sat down across from her, and we shared breakfast in silence.

I broke the silence, my voice a little uncertain. "So, Sarah... do you ever want to do, you know, things that a wife might expect from a husband? Like traveling, dates, shopping?"

I hesitated, my nerves getting the better of me. What if I’d crossed a line?

But instead of the awkward reaction I feared, she chuckled, catching me off guard.

"Hey!" she said, a playful smile on her face. "Just because we’re not at each other’s throats doesn’t mean we need to start acting like a stereotypical husband and wife. I mean... yeah, we are technically married, but I’d rather keep things the way they were. I really liked the whole... friendly vibe."

She took another bite, her casual demeanor easing my nerves. "Besides," she added, "we’ve got our own lives, our own work. Mixing all that with personal stuff? It’s not really our style."

I let out a sigh of relief, and she noticed.

"Don’t worry," she said with a reassuring smile. "I’m not going to be the demanding type. And I’m definitely not one of those fragile girls who need their husband around all the time. I can handle things just fine on my own."

I finished my breakfast and stood up, walking toward her. Leaning in close enough to whisper, I teased, "I know you can handle things on your own... but maybe you could pretend to be a fragile girl just for me, every now and then?"

She gave me a look, amused but unbothered by my playful comment, as I made my way toward the living room. "Hurry up," I called over my shoulder. "I'll be dropping you off every day from now on."

Our daily routine gradually synced up. We both left for work early in the morning, though Sarah usually returned home a bit earlier than I did. Even though I woke up before her, she always managed to have breakfast ready and our lunch boxes meticulously packed. It became a comforting routine, one I looked forward to each day.
When I got home in the evenings, I’d either find her prepping dinner or lounging on the couch, binge-watching something. Some nights, she'd ask me to order takeout instead, and I didn’t mind.

With Mom hardly ever around and Dad off on a business trip, it was just the two of us, and we fell into an effortless camaraderie. We spent our evenings playing games or watching her favorite dramas, her laughter filling the space around us. She never pressured me to join in, but I found myself drawn into the stories, captivated by the world she loved.

Her bed was perpetually a chaotic mess, clothes strewn about and blankets tangled, but I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I liked it that way. It mirrored the delightful chaos of our lives together -- comfortably disordered, just like the ease and warmth that had blossomed between us.