Two Little Secrets From My Boss

Chapter 37

[POV Daphne]

The coffee shop near our building had become my morning refuge.

Ten minutes of solitude before the chaos of work, before meetings and emails and the constant low-grade anxiety that came with being the CEO's wife in a company full of curious eyes. I'd discovered that a quiet latte and a moment to breathe made everything more manageable.

I was waiting for my order when a familiar voice cut through the ambient noise.

"Daphne Hale. Still ordering oat milk, I see. Some things never change."

I turned to find Archie standing behind me, that easy smile on his face, his sandy hair slightly windswept from the spring morning. He looked good—relaxed in a way that suggested he'd made peace with how things had ended between us.

"Archie!" I felt myself smile despite the surprise. "I didn't know you frequented this place."

"I don't, usually. But my regular spot had a health code violation situation, and I refuse to discuss the details while holding a breakfast sandwich." He stepped up beside me at the counter, ordering a black coffee with the casual confidence I remembered. "How are you? How are the girls?"

"Good. Busy. Nina's convinced she wants to be an astronaut now, which means everything in the apartment has become a spaceship."

"Including the toaster?"

"Especially! It's the command center, apparently."

Archie laughed—that warm, genuine sound that had always made me feel at ease. "And Lisa? Still the quiet observer?"

"Watching everything with those wise eyes. She asked me last week why people say they're 'fine' when they're not fine. I didn't have a good answer for her."

"That's a philosopher in the making," he collected his coffee and gestured toward a small table by the window. "Do you have a few minutes? I'd love to catch up properly."

I hesitated. The last time Archie and I had spoken alone was at the gala, after everything had exploded and he'd saved me from Bianca's attack. We'd said goodbye with something like closure.

But this felt different. Casual and friendly, the kind of interaction normal people had with former... whatever we'd been.

"A few minutes," I agreed, collecting my own drink.

We settled into chairs across from each other, the morning light streaming through the window between us. Archie looked at me with that attentive focus I remembered—present, interested, but carefully controlled.

"I heard about the wedding," he said. "Congratulations. I mean that sincerely."

"Thank you, it was small and intimate. The girls were flower girls."

"I can imagine Nina took that role very seriously."

"She threw petals at people's heads on purpose. Lisa was mortified."

He smiled, but something in his eyes shifted—a flicker of something deeper that he quickly masked. "And married life? Everything you hoped it would be?"

"It's wonderful," the words came easily. "Complicated sometimes, but—"

"Complicated?"

I shouldn't have said anything, but there was something about Archie that had always made honesty feel safe—his refusal to judge, his ability to listen without agenda.

"Xander's mother showed up unexpectedly. She's... not a fan of mine."

"Eleanor Hale," Archie's expression darkened slightly. "I met her once, at a charity function years ago. She looked at me like I was something she'd scraped off her shoe."

"That sounds about right."

"She's made it clear she thinks you're after the family money?"

"Among other things," I wrapped my hands around my cup, letting the warmth seep into my palms. "She asked about the twins' routines, their education, their discipline. Like she was auditing my parenting skills."

"How's Xander handling it?"

"He defended me, strongly," I paused, choosing my next words carefully. "But I can tell her words got to him. He's been... different since she arrived. More watchful and more protective."

"Protective or possessive?"

I looked up to find Archie studying me with that perceptive gaze, seeing things I hadn't fully articulated even to myself.

"Both, maybe," I admitted it quietly, like speaking the words too loudly might make them more real. "He hovers now, checking in constantly when I'm out. He gets tense when I mention spending time with anyone outside his immediate circle."

"That's not healthy, Daphne."

"He's been through a lot, so he has reasons to be cautious about people."

"It doesn't make controlling behavior acceptable," Archie leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. "You deserve a partner who trusts you, not one who monitors you."

"He does trust me. He's just—"

"Scared of losing you, I understand that." Something raw flickered in Archie's eyes before he looked away. "Believe me, I understand that better than most."

The admission hung between us, heavy with implications neither of us addressed directly. I knew his interest ran deeper than friendship—had always known, even when I'd chosen Xander. Archie had stepped back gracefully, but some feelings don't disappear simply because they're inconvenient.

"I'm not trying to cause problems," he continued, his voice carefully neutral. "I just want you to know that you have people in your corner. Friends who care about your wellbeing without ulterior motives."

"Thank you, Archie. That means more than you know."

"I mean it. If you ever need someone to talk to, someone outside the situation, I'm here," he reached across the table and squeezed my hand briefly—a gesture of support, nothing more. "No expectations or complications, just friendship."

I believed him. Archie had always been good at compartmentalizing, at being what people needed in the moment. Right now, I needed a friend who didn't look at me through the lens of Xander's world.

"The girls ask about you sometimes," I said, changing the subject to safer ground. "Nina still talks about the chocolate fountain incident at the gala."

"That was entirely her fault. I was an innocent bystander."

"You encouraged her to stick her whole hand in."

"I suggested she test the chocolate temperature, for safety purposes. Very responsible adult behavior."

I laughed, and the tension in my shoulders eased slightly. This was what I'd missed—easy conversation, uncomplicated warmth, the ability to be Daphne rather than Mrs. Hale.

My phone buzzed. A text from Xander: Where are you? You left early.

I stared at the message, that familiar tightness returning to my chest. It was barely eight in the morning. I'd been gone maybe twenty minutes.

"Everything okay?" Archie asked, noticing my expression.

"Fine. It’s just Xander checking in. I should get going," I gathered my things, finishing the last of my latte. "It was good to see you, Archie, really."

"You too," he stood when I did, that old-fashioned courtesy he'd never abandoned. "Take care of yourself, Daphne, and remember what I said. Friends don't have to be complicated."

I walked out of the coffee shop with his words echoing in my head, competing with the buzz of my phone—another text from Xander, asking when I'd be back.

The tension beneath the surface of my marriage was harder to ignore now that someone else had named it. Archie saw what I'd been avoiding, the possessiveness growing like a vine around our relationship, tightening so slowly I'd almost missed it happening.

I loved Xander, deeply, completely, and without reservation. But love didn't make everything okay. It didn't erase patterns or heal old wounds or guarantee that two people could build something healthy together.

Eleanor's arrival had shifted something in my husband. Something I didn't yet understand and couldn't predict.

I texted back—Grabbed coffee, heading in now—and wondered how long I could keep pretending that everything was fine.