Ms. Russell called out, “The floor is cold! Please put on your shoes before you go! You’re still recovering from your delivery!”

The maid hurried after Imogen, shoes in hand, but Imogen didn’t hear. Barefoot, she stumbled and rushed out, unwilling to wait. If she had wings, she would fly to Archie, touch his face, and confirm if this was a dream or reality.

In her haste, Imogen tripped. Strong arms caught her steadily. Her voice trembled as she tentatively called out, “A–Archie?”

The reply she’d longed for sounded clearly, with familiar tenderness. “It’s me, Imogen. I’m back.”

The familiar scent and voice… It was Archie! Tears streamed down her face as she clung to his arm. “Where have you been? How could you leave and then return like this? I thought you were dead! You idiot! Do you know how I endured these months? I thought of you every day, praying for your safety. This isn’t a dream, right? Tell me it’s real!”

Her eyes were red and swollen. “It’s not a dream, silly. It’s real,” Archie said, holding her hand and placing it on his face. “If you don’t believe me, pinch me.”

How could she pinch him? Instead, her hands carefully traced his face—his eyebrows, eyes, nose, and lips. They were features she knew so well.

“It’s true. You’re really back…”

The last shred of uncertainty vanished. Imogen threw her arms around him, her emotions surging. After a while, she recalled something. Pulling away, she tilted her head up. “Oh, right! You’re a father now! We have a child!”

Archie feigned surprise, his voice brimming with delight. “Really? I’m a dad?”

Imogen softened her tone. “After your accident, I found out I was pregnant. The baby was just born, and the housekeepers say he looks like you.” Instead of immediately asking to see the child, Archie gently kissed her forehead. “You’ve had it rough, my darling. I wasn’t there for you from pregnancy to delivery. I feel terrible.”

“Don’t blame yourself. As long as you’re safe, I’m content.”

Wiping away her tears, Imogen’s expression turned serious. “Archie, what happened that night at sea? The ship sank. How did you survive? And if you were fine, why didn’t you come back sooner?”

She’d bottled up those questions. Now, she asked them all at once. Archie sighed deeply. “That night, six months ago, the ship was returning to Seldvale but was attacked in international waters. In the chaos, my men and I took a speedboat to capture their leader.

“Then, a massive storm hit. I was swept away. When I came to, I was in another country. I was rescued by an oil tanker crew, but I couldn’t understand their language. I was injured and couldn’t communicate.

“By the time I recovered, nearly half a year had passed. I knew you’d be worried, so I rushed back. Thankfully, I made it in time to see you.”

Archie cupped Imogen’s face, his voice gentle and sincere. His every sentence seemed to carry a deep longing for her.