The moment Ruth disappeared from the breakfast room, Marcus remained exactly where he was.
Calm.
Collected.
Almost frighteningly composed.
Which Matthew had learned over the years, usually meant one thing.
His brother was suffering.
Matthew leaned back in his chair, watching him with barely contained amusement.
For a man who had negotiated business deals worth millions, faced hostile boardrooms, and intimidated people twice his age, Marcus Hughes looked strangely defeated.
Not by enemies.
Not by failure.
By his own wife.
"Do not look so pleased with yourself."
Matthew blinked innocently.
"I did not say anything."
"You were thinking loudly."
"That is a talent you acquired after living with Ruth for years."
Marcus picked up his coffee.
"She is impossible."
Matthew immediately smiled.
"Ah."
Marcus looked at him.
"What?"
"You said that with affection."
"I did not."
"You did."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
Marcus ignored him.
Matthew continued anyway.
"Three weeks ago, you were walking around this house looking like a man whose entire world had collapsed because his wife did not recognize him."
A pause.
"Now?"
He gestured toward the doorway where Ruth had disappeared.
"Now you are following a list of rules created by the same woman who once climbed through your office window because you refused to answer her calls."
Marcus closed his eyes briefly.
"She did not climb through the window."
Matthew raised an eyebrow.
"You are correcting the details?"
"She used the balcony."
A silence.
Then Matthew laughed.
"That is somehow worse."
Marcus tried to maintain his composure.
He failed slightly.
Because despite everything...
despite the pain...
despite the confusion...
he could still see her.
The same Ruth.
The same woman who entered his life like a storm and refused to leave quietly.
Even without her memories, she was still unmistakably her.
Only louder.
More reckless.
And somehow even more terrifying.
Matthew rested his arms on the table.
"You know what is funny?"
Marcus looked at him.
"What?"
"You."
"That is not helpful."
"No, listen."
Matthew grinned.
"The old Ruth would have never created rules like that."
Marcus became quiet.
Because he knew.
The old Ruth would have laughed at such rules.
The old Ruth would have made them impossible.
The old Ruth...
Would have already broken every single one.
Matthew continued.
"She would have walked into your study without knocking."
"Yes."
"She would have stolen your coat."
His expression softened.
"She would have sat beside you even when you told her you were busy."
"Yeah."
"She would have kissed you just to annoy you."
Marcus looked away.
Matthew noticed.
And smiled.
"There it is."
"What?"
"That face."
Marcus frowned.
"What face?"
"The face of a man remembering things he misses."
Marcus said nothing.
Because he was.
He remembered too much.
The way Ruth used to hold his hand when she was nervous.
The way she would pretend she wasn't cold but somehow always ended up wearing his coat.
The way she would lean against him during movies and deny falling asleep.
The way she kissed him first.
Always.
And now...
she was standing in front of him, setting rules to prevent herself from doing exactly those things.
Matthew shook his head.
"You know, I never thought I would see the day when Ruth Hamilton would be the one creating distance between the two of you."
Marcus looked at him.
"And yet here we are."
"And you agreed."
Marcus looked at him.
"What choice did I have?"
Matthew's smile softened.
That answer was very Marcus.
Not because he had no pride.
But because when it came to Ruth...
he never truly had a choice.
Unfortunately for Marcus, Matthew was not finished.
"So."
Marcus already knew that tone.
"No."
"I haven't asked anything."
"I know you."
Matthew ignored him.
"The kiss."
Marcus immediately looked up.
"What about it?"
Matthew grinned.
"She remembered."
"She did not."
"Not fully."
Matthew leaned closer.
"But she reacted."
Marcus became still.
Because he had noticed too.
When Ruth mentioned the kiss, when she remembered that moment outside the estate after returning from London...
The way her cheeks turned pink.
The way she became flustered.
The way she suddenly avoided looking at him.
That was not fear.
Not entirely.
There was something else.
Something alive.
Something that frightened her because she didn't understand it.
Matthew laughed quietly.
"Poor Ruth."
Marcus frowned.
"Poor Ruth?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because she is trying very hard not to want you."
Marcus looked away.
"And you?"
Matthew smiled.
"I think she is failing."
Before Marcus could respond—
A familiar voice interrupted.
"Failing at what?"
Both brothers turned.
Nana Beryl stood at the entrance of the breakfast room, looking between them.
Matthew immediately smiled.
"Perfect timing."
Marcus sighed.
"Matthew."
"What?"
Nana looked amused.
"What happened?"
Matthew pulled a chair for her.
"Ruth created ridiculous rules."
Nana blinked.
"Rules?"
"Yes."
Matthew began counting.
"Marcus cannot hover."
Nana nodded seriously.
"Reasonable."
"He cannot follow her."
"Also reasonable."
"He cannot stare at her."
Nana looked at Marcus.
"That might be difficult."
Marcus looked offended.
"I do not stare."
Both Matthew and Nana looked at him.
Silence.
Marcus cleared his throat.
"Continue."
Matthew smiled.
"He cannot touch her."
Nana's expression changed.
"Oh dear."
"And he cannot kiss her."
A pause.
Then Nana laughed.
Actually laughed.
Marcus looked betrayed.
"Nana."
"Oh, my dear Marcus."
She shook her head.
"My dear boy."
Matthew was now laughing too.
"You should have seen his face."
Nana smiled.
"Do you know how impossible this will be for him?"
Matthew pointed at Marcus.
"Exactly."
Nana looked toward the doorway where Ruth had left.
"Our poor Ruth?"
She smiled.
"She was always the affectionate one."
Marcus softened.
Nana continued.
"That girl would hold your hand in public without thinking."
A pause.
"She once kissed you in front of an entire room of people because she said you looked too serious."
Matthew laughed.
"I remember that."
Marcus looked embarrassed.
"She was trying to annoy me."
Nana smiled.
"No."
She looked at him knowingly.
"She was reminding you that you were loved."
The room became quiet.
Because everyone knew.
Ruth had loved Marcus first.
For years.
Before he understood.
Before he admitted.
Before he realized that the girl following him around since she was sixteen had somehow become the only person who could make his life feel complete.
Nana looked at Marcus.
"Good luck."
Matthew laughed.
"Exactly what I said."
Marcus sighed.
"I survived losing my wife."
He looked toward the hallway.
"I survived finding her."
A pause.
"And now I must survive her ridiculous set of rules."
Nana smiled.
"That may be your greatest challenge."
---
Later that evening, the mood shifted.
The laughter disappeared.
The lightness faded.
Because a report arrived.
A report that had been delayed.
A report that carried information none of them expected.
Matthew entered Marcus' study holding a file.
Marcus immediately noticed his expression.
"What is it?"
Matthew placed the folder down.
"We may have found something."
Marcus opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Locations.
Names.
Records.
A trail.
Not enough answers.
But enough to begin.
"The disappearance wasn't random."
Marcus looked up.
Matthew's voice lowered.
"There was someone who knew exactly where Ruth would be."
A silence.
Three months.
Three months of searching.
Three months of unanswered questions.
And now...
Finally...
a lead.
Marcus looked at the photograph in his hand.
His wife.
Alive.
Somewhere.
Someone had taken her away once.
Someone had stolen three months of her life.
But Marcus made himself one promise.
He would find the truth.
Not just because Ruth was his wife.
But because somewhere beneath the memories she lost...
was the woman who loved him.
And he would bring her back.
No matter what it cost him.