Chapter 4: Blurry Memories

Arnold Aagaard sat behind the imposing mahogany desk in his spacious corner office, the skyline of New York City stretching out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

The office was the epitome of power, sleek and sophisticated, just like the man who occupied it. Arnold, now the CEO of his late grandfather's prestigious automobile manufacturing company, had assumed the role with the kind of precision and determination that had made the company a global leader. But as he leaned back in his chair, his mind wasn't on business today.

His lawyer's words still echoed in his mind, filling him with disbelief.

"You've fulfilled the conditions, Mr. Aagaard. You are now entitled to the full inheritance."

Arnold had stared at the man, baffled.

"What do you mean? What conditions?"

The lawyer, a seasoned professional who had handled the Aagaard family's affairs for decades, looked equally surprised by Arnold's confusion. 

"Your grandfather's will stipulated that you wouldn't inherit your full share of the estate unless you were married for at least a year before the age of 35. You've met that condition."

"But I'm not married," Arnold had insisted, his brow furrowed. "There's been some mistake."

The lawyer had paused, then opened a folder and pushed a document across the desk. Arnold's eyes scanned the paper. The marriage certificate. His marriage certificate.

"Ruby Miller," the name glared at him like a neon sign.

His thoughts had raced back to that night — the drunken blur at the bar, the crazy idea of marriage, the fleeting image of a girl whose face he barely remembered. 

He had gone back to the club the next day, retraced his steps to the hotel, but she had disappeared. It was like she had vanished into thin air.

—

When Ruby returned home, the sight of her beautiful daughter waiting for her at the door immediately melted away the stress of the day. As soon as she stepped inside, her little girl, with her wide, innocent eyes and a mop of curly hair, rushed over, wrapping her small arms tightly around Ruby's legs. Ruby bent down and scooped her up, hugging her tightly, feeling the comfort of her daughter's warmth against her chest.

"Mommy!" the girl giggled, her smile lighting up the room.

Ruby kissed her on the forehead, brushing a few stray curls away from her daughter's face. 

"Hey, sweetheart. Did you have fun at school today?"

The little girl nodded excitedly, but then her expression shifted to one of curiosity as she pointed at Ruby's blouse, now stained from the earlier coffee spill. 

"Mommy, why is your shirt dirty?"

Ruby sighed softly, shaking her head with a small, tired smile. 

"Someone wasn't watching where they were going and spilled coffee on me," she explained, keeping her tone light to avoid alarming her daughter.

Her daughter frowned, scrunching her nose in disapproval. "That's not nice."

Ruby chuckled. "No, it wasn't. But don't worry, it's all cleaned up now."

"But the stain is still there"

"Yeah yeah. The stain can't go"

As she carried her daughter toward the living room, Ruby's thoughts drifted back to that painful time five years ago. Holding her daughter close, she remembered how different life had been — how fragile and uncertain everything had felt back then. It had been only a month after she was thrown out by her stepmother. A month filled with confusion, fear, and desperation.

She still remembered the cruel look on her stepmother's face, the venom in her voice as she was cast out of the only home she had ever known. She had been utterly alone, without a place to stay or anyone to turn to. 

And just when she thought things couldn't get worse, she discovered she was pregnant.

The news had hit her like a tidal wave. She had cried for days, feeling overwhelmed and defeated. There was no one to comfort her, no family to lean on, and no money to fall back on. She had wandered the streets aimlessly, going from one shelter to another, barely able to afford her next meal. 

The only thing that had kept her going during those dark days was the thought of the life growing inside her.

Her daughter. The one person who had given her the strength to fight through the storm.

Ruby found herself in a nearby hotel one day, desperate for any kind of job. She had gone in with no expectations, just hoping they might have something—anything. As fate would have it, she had been hired as a cleaner.

It was a lowly position, scrubbing floors and cleaning rooms, but Ruby was grateful for it. The job came with a small room in the staff quarters, and for the first time since being kicked out, she had a roof over her head. It wasn't much, but it was a start. 

She had something that resembled stability, and with that stability, she started to rebuild her life, piece by piece.

Her daughter tugged at her sleeve, pulling Ruby out of her reverie. "Mommy, are you sad?"

Ruby smiled softly, blinking back the tears that had threatened to surface. 

"No, sweetheart. I'm not sad. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how lucky I am to have you," Ruby said, pressing another kiss to her daughter's cheek.

She set her daughter down gently and watched as the little girl ran off to her play corner, a smile still lingering on Ruby's lips. She glanced around the apartment — modest, but comfortable — a little luxury she could afford.

She had worked her way up from cleaning rooms to managing an entire five-star hotel. It had taken grit, patience, and countless sleepless nights, but she had done it.

Her thoughts returned to the events of the day. 

She hadn't expected to see someone so familiar, yet so distant. He had apologized profusely for the spilled coffee, and in the moment, she had brushed him off, too focused on her duties and her anger. 

But there had been something about him — a nagging feeling that she had met him before. She just couldn't place where.