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Penulis: Sally
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-22 02:16:50

He doesn’t answer. His mouth opens slightly, but

no words come out. He doesn't even look at me. How did I let myself down like this? I was beginning to like him in a very short period.

“Lionel,” I say, louder this time, “is it true?”

His voice comes, finally. Soft. Hesitant. “It’s not the way it seems. It's not what you think.”

My chest tightens. “It’s a yes or no.”

He looks away.

“Do you really know that woman?” I ask.

But he's quiet and my chest tightens even more. That silence… It answers everything.

“I trusted you,” I whisper. “I thought you were different”

“You still can. I am different” he says quickly, stepping toward me. “I didn’t lie to you. I just— it's a lot”

“You didn't tell me. That's what matters” I say. “You let me fall into something with you while holding back this. You know what I’ve been through. What I left. You saw me trying to put the pieces back together.” It annoys me that I'm affected in the way that I am. Why am I even upset? It’s not like we made promises.
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Banupriya Manickam
yeah girl... choose yourself...
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  • My Billionaire Husband Wants Me Back    61

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  • My Billionaire Husband Wants Me Back    60

    One Month LaterThe morning light spills lazily through my curtains as I drag myself out of bed. My feet hit the cool tiles, a small shock to my skin, but it wakes me up just enough. I stretch and walk over to my laptop, the lid still open from the night before. On the screen, a checklist glows softly—a plan, finally. Not just ideas scattered like breadcrumbs but a full, breathing business plan. My pastry shop. My future.I smile at the screen. For the first time in a long time, it feels like I’m actually going to win. Not just survive, but truly win. I reach for my phone beside the laptop and scroll to Maya’s contact. The moment I dial, she picks up before the first ring even finishes.“You didn’t even let the phone ring,” I say with a laugh, already feeling lighter.Her voice comes through, bold and bright. “This device was already in my hand,” she says, probably rolling her eyes with that signature grin of hers. I can imagine it clearly—her, in a headscarf, barefoot in her apartmen

  • My Billionaire Husband Wants Me Back    59

    He doesn’t answer. His mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. He doesn't even look at me. How did I let myself down like this? I was beginning to like him in a very short period.“Lionel,” I say, louder this time, “is it true?”His voice comes, finally. Soft. Hesitant. “It’s not the way it seems. It's not what you think.”My chest tightens. “It’s a yes or no.”He looks away.“Do you really know that woman?” I ask.But he's quiet and my chest tightens even more. That silence… It answers everything.“I trusted you,” I whisper. “I thought you were different” “You still can. I am different” he says quickly, stepping toward me. “I didn’t lie to you. I just— it's a lot”“You didn't tell me. That's what matters” I say. “You let me fall into something with you while holding back this. You know what I’ve been through. What I left. You saw me trying to put the pieces back together.” It annoys me that I'm affected in the way that I am. Why am I even upset? It’s not like we made promises.

  • My Billionaire Husband Wants Me Back    58

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  • My Billionaire Husband Wants Me Back    57

    I glance at Lionel, waiting for some kind of explanation.He catches my questioning look and chuckles. “It’s an art exhibition today,” he replies, a small twinkle in his eyes.I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips. It’s been so long since I attended one of these. I used to love them—the colors, the emotions, the quiet hum of conversation, the way art could make you feel something without words. But I haven’t stepped foot in a gallery since I married Leonard. The thought comes with a dull ache in my chest, one I quickly brush aside.“Come on, let’s go in,” Lionel says as he offers his hand.I hesitate just for a second, then place my hand in his. His palm is warm, his grip secure. There’s something steadying about him—like a gentle tide that doesn’t rush but still finds a way to reach the shore. We walk into the gallery, and my breath catches in my throat.The entire space is bathed in light. The walls are pristine white, acting as the perfect canvas for the bursts

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