Late Love: Winning Back the Runaway Wife

"Uhm..." Before Emma could come up with an excuse to decline, Michael had already circled around to the other side, pulled open the door, and stood there waiting for her to hop in.

Seeing how polite he was and thinking back to the good impression he'd left, Emma smiled and nodded.

"Alright then, I'll take the ride. Thanks."

Michael chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "No trouble at all. I'm happy to."

As the car eased into motion, Michael turned on the stereo. A familiar tune floated out from the speakers.

"Is this...the theme song from that love story movie?"

Emma asked all of a sudden.

"Yeah, it is. You like it?" He tilted his head slightly, his deep gaze landing on her face.

Emma nodded gently, kind of surprised that Michael liked this kind of soft, slightly melancholic piano piece. That little bit of distance she'd been keeping faded away.

"Yeah, I really like it."

Michael noticed the subtle shift in her mood and couldn't help showing a faint smile.

He'd done his homework-it's not like he didn't know that before Emma got married, she loved nothing more than piano and live concerts.

And now, he was just using this shared interest to close the gap between them a little more.

"I remember meeting Mr. Grace once. He told me that his daughter wasn't into finance or business stuff-more into music and plants. Looks like he was right."

Michael tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as he teased her.

Emma blushed a bit, not expecting her dad to say something like that in front of others.

"Yeah... those contracts and papers bore me to death. You must think it's silly."

If she'd taken an interest, Matthew probably wouldn't have been in such a rush to find a competent son-in-law.

Too bad she ended up marrying someone completely different from what her father wanted.

The thought made her a bit down for a moment.

Sensing the change, Michael relaxed his foot on the gas and casually tugged at his collar.

"I think the last time I saw you was at a design event, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I work at a design company-mainly do jewelry design."

The shift in topic snapped Emma back into the conversation and to a subject she was comfortable with.

"Jewelry design? That actually sounds really cool."

Michael glanced at her pale, elegant side profile and the smile on his face deepened.

"It's not as fancy as you think. Nothing like your field. Every time I have to hand in a draft, it's a struggle."

"A struggle? You don't strike me as someone who'd have trouble with design. I mean, you wouldn't have been at that event if you didn't have the skills."

His calm tone carried a sort of quiet confidence. Emma glanced at him a few times, feeling surprised.

She figured Michael would be like Ethan, assuming she only got invited to that kind of event because of her family connections.

Noticing that Emma had glanced his way a few times, Michael tilted his head slightly and asked, "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"No... I'm just a bit surprised, that's all."

Emma turned her head and sat up straighter, eyes quietly fixed on the road ahead.

Seeing her reaction, Michael dropped the topic and didn't press further. Not long after, the car rolled up to the entrance of the villa complex.

A soft female voice rang out as the license plate scanner scanned and approved the car:

"Ding-You may proceed."

Hearing that, Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You live here too?"

"Nope, just own a house here," Michael replied with a chuckle, catching the look on her face. Then he casually asked, "Which unit is yours?"

"Block B, number 6." The address slipped out before she could stop herself. Emma had thought about getting off at the entrance, but this community was ridiculously huge-and her unit just happened to be halfway up the mountain, in the farthest zone.

She lifted her eyes to the dark night, with only the faint glow of scattered streetlights.

If she got off here, she'd probably get completely turned around in the dark.

"Oh right, I've actually got a small favor to ask. Don't know if you've got time these days."

Out of the blue, Michael brought it up.

"My cousin's birthday is in a couple of months. I want to get her a necklace, but everything out there feels kind of generic. Do you think you could design one for her?"

Emma was about to respond when Michael added, "If it works for you, I'll place an order through your company under my name. It won't interfere with your job that way."

With him putting it like that, and considering all the times he'd helped her in the past, Emma found it hard to say no-plus, it was for his cousin.

"Sure, but I'll need to know at least a few of her preferences. That'll help with the design."

Michael knew then that his little plan was working.

"She loves bunnies," he added with a small smile. "And she's really into pink."

He gave a brief rundown just as the car slowed to a stop.

Emma had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was getting ready to open the door when Michael had already walked around and opened it for her.

"Oh, thanks." Caught off guard by the thoughtful gesture, a soft smile crept across her lips as she said it.

That smile, and everything else, was caught by someone standing further back.

After finishing up a late meeting, Ethan had driven home, only to find that Emma still wasn't back yet.

An hour passed and he couldn't sit still anymore. Grabbing his keys, he drove out, only to catch sight of his wife stepping out of a sleek sports car, with a relaxed smile on her face... a smile he'd never seen on her before.

That smile was warm and bright-so much that it stung his eyes.

His hand, clutching the car keys, unconsciously tightened. For some reason, something hit him hard in the chest, sending a dull ache spreading outward.

She had never smiled like that at him.

...

Hunt family villa.

"You're back."

After chatting a little with Michael about the necklace design, Emma walked through the door, only to see the man who had barely stepped foot in the house these past few days, now sitting on the sofa, face clouded with gloom.