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Chapter 36: Jessie’s POV
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2025-09-15 19:28:37
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My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 37: Jessie’s POV
Lincoln and I sit in a heavy, strained silence, waiting for the officers to return — to bring answers, or at least a clearer sense of what was almost done to me. Every second stretches like an eternity, the sterile clock on the wall ticking just loud enough to remind us of how slowly time can pass when you’re desperate for it to move faster.We’re both pretending to be still, pretending to be calm. But I can see the toll all of this is taking on Lincoln. His shoulders, usually squared and proud, are slumped. His eyes flick constantly to the door, jaw tight, fingers twitching slightly against his knee. He’s in a heightened state of vigilance — wired and restless — and underneath it all, exhausted.“You can lay down, you know,” I murmur, breaking the silence gently. I shift as best as I can, wincing slightly, using what little strength I have left to scoot over. “There’s enough space. You should rest.”He glances at the bed, then quickly looks away, shaking his head.“That’s okay,” he s
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 36: Jessie’s POV
Lincoln stays glued to my side, an immovable presence as we wait for updates from hospital security. They’re still searching for the imposter nurse who fled moments before, disappearing into the chaos of the hospital corridors, and we're waiting for the police to arrive. The silence in the room is heavy, taut with unspoken fear and tension. Lincoln’s normally steady hands are clenched tightly in his lap, his jaw tight, his eyes locked on the doorway as if sheer will alone could bring answers faster or keep danger away.He isn’t just concerned — he’s seething. And beneath the surface, I can sense something deeper. Guilt. A gnawing, hollow kind that sits in the chest and spreads like a slow burn. I reach out, placing a hand gently over his clenched fist.“This isn’t your fault, Lincoln,” I whisper, my voice fragile in the sterile air.He doesn’t look at me right away, but I see the way his shoulders drop — not in relief, but in resignation. A momentary softening. Barely but still someth
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 35: Lincoln’s POV
I forced myself to move through the shock. I was panicking. But there was no time—not when something felt so deeply, viscerally wrong.I stepped forward, slowly but deliberately, and pushed the door fully open. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a single overhead fixture. The air inside felt off—too still, too quiet. The curtain that surrounded Jessie’s bed had been drawn shut, enclosing her in a makeshift wall of pale blue fabric. But something was missing. No examination cart. No nurse’s clipboard. No soft shuffle of hospital shoes or murmur of bedside reassurances.I crept closer, footsteps featherlight against the polished floor. My fingers curled around the edge of the curtain. Whoever was behind it wasn’t expecting company. I had the element of surprise, and I intended to use it.I drew in a breath—steady, controlled—and yanked the curtain back with force.What I saw made my blood freeze.A woman, dressed in scrubs, stood just inches from Jessie’s IV line, a syringe
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 34: Lincoln’s POV
Jessie had finally surrendered to her exhaustion, allowing it to dull the sharp edges of her grief. She now lay peacefully asleep in her hospital bed, her breathing even, her features softened at last by rest. Watching her like that—so fragile, yet still so resolute—brought a knot to my chest. I sat in silence for a long moment, just listening to the steady rhythm of the heart monitor, grounding myself in the fact that, for now, she was safe.I knew I couldn’t stay in the same clothes I’d been wearing since the chaos began, nor could I keep going without at least a moment to reset. I leaned in close, careful not to wake her, and whispered gently, “I’m going to be right back, Jessie. Just thirty minutes—to shower, clean up, grab some clothes. I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”I gave her hand a soft, lingering squeeze, reluctant to let go. Then, standing slowly, I let my eyes settle on her one last time before quietly slipping out the door and into the quiet corridor. I walke
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 33: Jessie’s POV
I can feel every fiber in my body begin to tighten, a creeping heat of anxiety curling itself around my spine, rooting me in place. My breath hitches. This is the first time I’ve truly looked at him—my husband—since the moment he turned his back on me. Since he left me thrashing in the cold, dark water, gasping for breath while he walked away, all to protect the identity of the woman he’s been hiding.I still remember what part of him I saw last: the rigid line of his shoulders, the back of his head, his deliberate and quick steps growing quieter as my cries grew weaker. Now, two hours later, he’s standing in my hospital room, looking dry, put together, and only slightly ruffled—as if he’s dropped by out of social obligation. I imagine the party must have ended abruptly—likely not on his terms—and now here he is, likely checking me off his to-do list before heading back to his mistress.Beside me, I feel Lincoln’s arms—my sanctuary in the chaos—slowly release their protective hold. Wi
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 32: Jessie’s POV
The moment consciousness returned to me, it hit me like a slow, dragging wave—painful and disorienting. The harsh fluorescent lights above blurred as my eyes tried to adjust, and then there he was. Lincoln.His face swam into view, pale and soaked, droplets of water still clinging to his eyelashes, his shirt plastered to his chest. His hair was slicked back from the lake, his breaths ragged, his eyes wide with worry—no, panic. It was written all over him: the tremble in his fingers, the flush in his cheeks, the way he hovered, afraid to touch me but unable to look away.I didn’t need to ask. I knew. I could see it all—he was the one who’d jumped in after me. He was the one who’d dragged me from that cold, dark water. Not Alan. Alan hadn’t even gotten his shoes wet.Instead, I heard him. His voice slithered through the crowd that had gathered at the lake’s edge, thick with feigned concern and rehearsed urgency—my wife, please, someone help her! He played his part well, but I could see
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