Chapter 1
A passionate wind stirs the most unresponsive tree; a fervent heart awakens the most reserved soul.
In Riverbend City, autumn nights always came wrapped in endless rain.
Seren Bradley had dozed off on the couch, and when she woke, her stomach was rumbling with hunger.
Almost automatically, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past midnight.
Today marked her third wedding anniversary with Sheridan Powers. He’d promised to take her out for dinner.
She’d been waiting since six in the evening, and now the day had slipped away— Sheridan still hadn’t shown up.
To be honest, calling it their third “wedding anniversary” was more fiction than fact. Legally, they weren’t even married.
Three years ago, after Sheridan’s accident left him paralyzed, there was no ceremony, no vows exchanged before family or friends. Seren had simply moved into The Golden Age Estates to look after him.
When Seren once asked about the lack of celebration, Diana, Sheridan’s mother, had brushed it off. “All those parties are merely performance,” she’d said. “Our family has never bothered with such fuss p>
Regarding the marriage license, Sheridan himself had declined. Their relationship was a whirlwind, and he said it was better to wait until their feelings were truly secure before making things official.
Diana had agreed, insisting, “A piece of paper means nothing if there’s no love. And if there is love, why bother with the formalities p>
Seren glanced out at the rain, trying to find an excuse for Sheridan. Maybe he’d been delayed by the downpour-maybe that’s why he was so late.
She debated calling him, her mind running through the questions she’d ask: “Are you coming home?” But before she could reach for her phone, the steady sound of dress shoes echoed from the foyer.
Sheridan was home.
Out of long habit, Seren stood to welcome him. She had barely taken a step when he shut the door, and a cloud of heavy, feminine perfume washed over her, carried on the sudden draft.
The scent stopped her in her tracks. For a moment, she just stood there.
It wasn’t hers. This was Chanel No. 5, bold and unmistakable.
Sheridan had told her once how much he loved that fragrance. He’d even suggested—more than once-that she wear it.
Seren had once bought a bottle, hoping he would like it. She used it once, then pushed it to the back of her dresser and never used it again.
The scent was far too heavy for her-her nose was sensitive, and the strong perfume made her feel dizzy and sick.
Eventually, she’d switched to a lighter, subtler scent from the same brand.
Truth be told, Seren had mild sinus problems and avoided perfume entirely when
she could. Anything too strong just made her miserable.
But Sheridan liked it. He’d often say that perfume gave a woman her unique allure.
“A woman who doesn’t wear perfume isn’t really a woman.” he said.
Seren realized that, for three years, she’d been reshaping herself to fit Sheridan’s tastes.
Ever since that day three years ago,
when she’d nearly drowned and Sheridan had pulled her from the
river and rushed her to the hospital,
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she’d fallen för him completely and hopelessly.
Later, she discovered Sheridan was the CEO of Starlight. She’d agreed to sign with Starlight’s agent, shelving. her own dreams to become just another face in the company’s talent roster.
After Sheridan’s accident, she’d gone to Diana and volunteered to look after him.
For three years, she’d done everything she could to become the woman Sheridan wanted.
He didn’t like her bare-faced, so she learned to do her makeup, fumbling her way from disaster to a presentable look in under half an hour.
He preferred bold, vibrant
colors especially red-so she’d packed away her soft neutral dresses and filled her closet with striking shades.
“Why are you so late?” Seren asked.