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Chapter Fourty Three

Author: Sammy
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-03 23:56:58

Kyla

The morning light creeps through the curtains, warm and golden, but I feel anything but rested. My body aches, the concussion still making my head throb faintly, and my legs are stiff from barely moving in days. But it’s not just the pain that drags me down it’s the silence.

I’m alone.

The kids are always the first thing I hear when I wake, Chanel humming to herself, Elias thumping his feet against the floor, one of them bickering about who gets the bathroom first. But this morning? Nothing. It's all quiet which is worrying when dealing with toddlers. 

My chest tightens. Panic flickers in the back of my mind as I push myself upright, every movement clumsy and slow. I grip the edge of the bed, steadying myself. Did something happen? Did they wander off?

I shuffle to the doorway, heart pounding harder with every step. But as I move down the hallway, the silence breaks soft voices, laughter, the scrape of cutlery.

I freeze at the laughter. It’s coming from the kitchen.

For a moment, I can’t breathe. I know what I will see before I even reach the doorway, and my heart isn’t ready for it. But my feet keep moving, carrying me forward until I’m standing there, watching from the threshold.

The sight nearly knocks me to my knees.

My children are at the breakfast table. Elias sits cross legged on the chair like it’s a throne, chattering about something I can’t quite hear. Chanel leans on the table, doodling with a pencil on a napkin, her curls a halo around her face.

And Jake. Jake is there with them.

He’s at the stove, flipping something in a pan like he has been doing it all his life, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly mussed. He moves easily, naturally, like this is routine. Like he belongs here.

Elias laughs at something Jake says, clutching his stomach. Chanel giggles too, looking up at him like he hung the moon.

“Almost ready,” Jake says over his shoulder, and my heart stutters at the sound. His voice is warm, lighter than I remember, touched with a softness I’d long convinced myself he wasn’t capable of.

I grip the doorframe hard enough that my knuckles ache.

Because this, this scene it’s everything I never let myself imagine.

Them. Him. Together. My family fully completed. 

My kids, their laughter tangled with his. His presence, solid and steady, filling the room as if no time, no distance, no lies had ever existed between us.

And it guts me.

“Mommy!” Chanel spots me first. She jumps off her chair, rushing to me, her small arms wrapping around my waist. “Jake made pancakes! He is funny, Mommy. He tells good stories.”

I force a smile, bending to kiss the top of her head. “Does he now?”

Elias is quick to join, tugging at my hand. “Yeah, Mommy! Did you know Jake knows how to flip pancakes without dropping them? He almost dropped one, but he didn’t! He is really good.”

I swallow hard, my throat burning. My kids are radiant, their little faces glowing with joy I can’t bear to dim.

But inside, my heart twists violently.

Because I should be happy too. I should be grateful, relieved that they have found someone who makes them laugh, who fills the silence with warmth. But all I feel is a crushing weight pressing down on my chest.

I glance up, and Jake is looking at me. His eyes meet mine across the room, and the air shifts. There is something in his gaze I can’t decipher stormy, conflicted, almost vulnerable. But he doesn’t say anything. He just sets a plate of pancakes on the table, breaking the moment.

“Eat up before it gets cold,” he says to the kids, his voice steady.

They dive in eagerly, syrup smearing across their lips, giggles spilling with every bite. I stay frozen in the doorway, my body torn between stepping in and running away.

Finally, I force myself forward, letting Elias tug me to the table. My legs protest, but I sit down, hands trembling as I reach for the plate.

The kids chatter endlessly about their dreams, about the rooms they want to decorate, about how “Jake promised” to help Elias build a fort later.

Promised. The word stabs me.

Because promises were what I wanted once. Promises were what broke me.

Promises are the reason my kids grew up without a dad. 

Jake moves quietly around the kitchen, refilling cups, handing out napkins, listening intently to every word my children say. It’s unnatural how natural he looks. Like he’s done this before. Like this is who he was always meant to be.

And I hate myself for the way my heart aches watching him.

I shouldn’t want this.

I shouldn’t feel the sharp sting of longing at the sight of him cutting Elias’s pancake into smaller pieces or tucking Chanel’s curls behind her ear.

But I do. God, I do.

Because this is what we were supposed to have. This is the life that was ripped from me years ago, replaced with secrets and loneliness and raising two children in the shadow of a past I couldn’t escape.

And now here it is, laid bare in front of me him, them, together.

The tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, swallowing hard as I force down a bite of pancake.

Chanel leans close to me, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Mommy, is Jake going to stay with us forever now?”

My fork freezes mid-air.

The room goes silent for half a beat, the weight of her words hanging between us like a loaded gun. I can’t answer. I can’t even look at Jake.

Elias jumps in before I can think, his mouth full of syrupy pancake. “Yeah, Mommy. Is he gonna be our daddy now?”

The world tilts.

I feel Jake’s eyes on me, burning, demanding answers I don’t have the strength to give. My heart races, my hands shake, and all I can do is force another shaky smile for the kids.

“Eat your breakfast,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

They return to their pancakes, unbothered, blissfully unaware of the storm raging just inches away.

And me?

I sit there, torn apart, drowning in the sight of the man I once loved so deeply fitting seamlessly into the family I built without him. And it terrifies me more than anything.

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    Kyla.His voice carries softly down the hall steady, low, warm in a way I had almost forgotten. It’s the same voice that used to read to me when we were too tired to talk, the one that could calm every storm inside me.Now it’s reading to our daughter.I stop just short of the doorway, my fingers curling around the frame as I listen.Chanel’s room glows dimly under the string lights. Jake’s sitting on the edge of her bed, book open in his hands, his voice wrapping around each word like it belongs there. Chanel’s little head rests against his arm, her lashes brushing her cheeks, her tiny hand holding on to his sleeve like she’s known him forever.She doesn’t know who he is.She just knows he makes her feel safe.My heart cracks right down the center.This should have been our life.Our home. Our nights. Our family. We dreamt about this life. I should have been the one standing by him, laughing at how he would struggle to braid Chanel’s hair or chase Elias around the living room until

  • BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS    Chapter Fifty Nine

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  • BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS    Chapter Fifty Eight

    Jake.I can’t breathe. The air in the room feels thick, heavy, and suffocating. My mind keeps replaying Kyla’s words over and over again like a tape that won’t stop spinning. She called me. She called me the night she went into labor. And Amina answered the phone.It doesn’t make sense, it shouldn’t make sense, but every detail fits together too perfectly to be a coincidence. My stomach churns. My pulse pounds in my ears.Kyla sits on the couch, her fingers trembling against her knees, eyes still glossy from tears. I can see the exhaustion in her face, the years of running and fear. And all I can think about is that my own blood, my family, the woman I once trusted stood between us and did nothing but destroy us. I force myself to speak, my voice low and uneven. “She, she answered the call.”Kyla nods weakly, her voice raw. “She told me never to call again. That you had moved on and I should too.”I drag a hand down my face, trying to process it, but the anger rising inside me is str

  • BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS    Chapter Fifty Seven

    Jake.After Kyla says the words “That’s because she’s behind all this” the room goes still.No more talking. No more air between us.Just silence and truth, sitting there like a loaded gun between our knees.Kyla doesn’t move, and neither do I. But my mind doesn’t stop. It can’t.Amina.Her name echoes in my head like a curse.I start seeing everything, every smile, every soft word, every tear she shed in my arms over the years through a different lens.Was any of it real?The nights she held me when I broke down? The way she whispered that she loved me? The way she said she wanted to build a future, a family, a life?Or was it all a performance, one long, twisted play she starred in while I stood there clapping for her, blind and stupid?I can still remember the first night she moved in with me after Kyla’s supposed death. I was broken, empty. I didn’t want to live, didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to breathe. And she was there making food I didn’t touch, talking when I couldn’t answe

  • BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS    Chapter Fifty Six

    Kyla.“I never cheated on you, Jake.”The words tear out of me before I can stop them. They hang between us trembling, alive, dangerous. My voice cracks, but I don’t care. My heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest and handed back to me in pieces.Jake looks up at me, eyes burning with something I can’t name pain, regret, disbelief, all swirling together. “Kyla, I know that now,” he says, his tone thick with remorse. “God, I know that now. But back then”“Back then,” I interrupt sharply, “you believed her.” My throat tightens. “You believed Amina. You believed the one person who stood to gain everything from me disappearing.”He flinches, the guilt on his face raw, open. “I didn’t know what to believe. Everything was chaos. The police said you were gone, Amina was broken, and I was”“Lonely?” I whisper bitterly. “Devastated enough to take comfort in her lies?”His jaw clenches, his eyes glassy. “It wasn’t like that.”“Then what was it like, Jake?” I shoot back, standing up s

  • BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS    Chapter Fifty Five

    Jake.I don’t even realize I’m pacing until Kyla’s hand catches the edge of my sleeve, stopping me. The world feels like it’s tilting, everything inside me shifting under the weight of what she just told me. The rain outside beats against the windows, and for a moment, it feels like five years ago again that night everything changed.Her voice is still trembling when she asks, “So what happened next? After I disappeared?”I drag in a rough breath and sink back into the chair, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. “You really want to know?”She nods, her lips pressed together, eyes glistening. “I deserve to.”God, she does. She deserves all of it: the truth, the ugly, the things I didn’t see, the things I should have questioned. My throat burns as I force myself to speak.“The morning after you were gone,” I begin slowly, “I filed a missing person’s report. I didn’t sleep all night. I went through every street, every hospital, every damn alley I could think of. I called your friend

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