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RUBY JUNE. I blinked frantically, my mind struggling to process his words. Did he call me mon chérie? As if to confirm my inner monologue, he repeated, “Mon chérie, I have missed you, my love.” I dropped the napkin back into the bowl, my throat tightening. “I will go return this,” I said, swallowing hard. “Please don’t go,” he pleaded, his grip on my hands tightening. “I can’t have you running away from me every time.” I gasped, instinctively touching my necklace to ensure it was still there. The familiar coldness against my skin reassured me that it hadn’t been lost. “I will be back,” I replied, my voice dry as I picked up the bowl. Charles grunted under his breath as I reluctantly pulled my hands away from him. When I returned, he was already fast asleep. I decided to tidy up, put