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038 I Was Going to Tell You
Last Updated:
2025-06-18 14:21:22
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The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me 174 The Cold Bitter Truth
(Serena)The bottle’s almost half gone.The fire crackles, casting shadows that move like ghosts across the walls lined with animal heads.We have the animal furs on the floor and we’re sitting warming our bare feet against the flames.Every inch of this cabin screams isolation and maybe that’s why I feel brave enough to open my mouth and say something I’ve never said out loud before.“I fucking hate her.”James looks up, blinking. “What? Who?”I stare into the fire. “Savannah. I hate her. Her breathy voice, her designer helplessness.”“Serena, maybe this is not the right topic for now.”“The way she always manages to be right where you are like some kind of designer-scented specter.”He exhales slowly, like he already knows where this is going.“I hate how she inserted herself into our life like she was entitled to it. I hate that she used a child to keep you tethered.”He doesn’t say anything, so I keep talking.“I hate that every time I turned around, there she was a nasty bundle o
The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me 173 Snow Drunk
(Serena)The plane touches down on a frozen runway flanked by snowdrifts taller than my bakery’s delivery van.We come out in our coats and woolen hats and I realize we are severely underdressed.The wind is bitter and howling. I’ve never been this cold in my life.The wind slaps my face like a bitter ex-girlfriend and I nearly fall backwards into James.“You didn’t say it would be this cold,” I yell over the wind, gripping the sleeves of my coat, which is more fashion than function.“I didn’t know,” James says, clearly freezing. He’s wearing a wool blazer like we’re headed to a board meeting.His ears are already turning red.We hustle into the tiny arrivals building that smells like woodsmoke and old leather.Inside, it’s warmer… barely. But the shop next to baggage claim is open and stocked with every kind of snow gear imaginable.Twenty minutes later, I’m wearing fleece-lined everything, a thermal layer, snow boots that feel like miniature mattresses, and a hat that makes me look
The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me 172 Shatterproof
(Haylee)The uplighting’s off by three degrees.The welcome signage is missing, and the DJ booth is set up two feet too far left.It’s not even 9 a.m. and my brain already wants to throttle someone. I adjust a pillar candle, step back, then adjust it again.God, I’m being insane.But when your personal life is a complete disaster, there’s nothing like turning into a perfectionist psychopath over floral symmetry.It’s only been days since I ran out of Serena’s parents’ home barefoot and Wes Langley’s taste still in my mouth.I should feel stronger. More in control.That’s usually my thing… type-A, always ten steps ahead, never phased. I’m shatterproof.But every time I close my eyes, I feel the heat of his hands, his mouth, the way he said my name like it was a vow and a dare all at once.I can’t stop thinking about it. And that terrifies me.I pull out my clipboard and run through the checklist for the gala walkthrough tonight. Everything is accounted for except my ability to focus.W
The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me 171 The Deal
(Serena)There’s a knock on the hotel door.I check the peephole. It’s James. Hoodie. Hands in his coat pockets.Damp curls at his temple from the freezing air.What does he want. Some damn grand gesture to convince me not to divorce him, I suppose.I consider not opening it. Just letting him stand there until he goes away.“Serena, I know you are looking at me.” He stares right back in the peephole at me. “It’s a little fresh out here.”I crack the door. “What are you doing here?”“I’m not here to fight,” he says. “Or beg. Or lecture. Okay… maybe beg…”“Beg… like down on the knees type?”“If that’s what it takes.”“I’m still divorcing you, Hale.”“I know. All good. I want to make a deal.”“James—”“Just hear me out. Can we do it inside please?”I open the door and let him in.The room is warm from the heater I turned up high.There’s a half-packed suitcase on the bed and my laptop’s open to my bakery’s expansion to-do list.He scans the room. Then looks at me.“Are you flying home al
The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me 170 The Cost of Everything
(Nico)My mother is quiet.She’s standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing out the same glass twice like she’s buying time. I’ve already told her. She hasn’t responded.No raised voice. That’s never her style. No disbelief. Just silence.“I filed the claim this morning,” I say again. “Media will break the story later today.”She sets the glass down. “You shouldn’t have done that.”I don’t argue. I lean against the counter across from her, arms folded.“He never knew,” she says finally, turning to face me. “I didn’t tell him I was still pregnant.”“He’s going to know now,” I say. “And none of that makes a difference. What matters is what you did.”She frowns. “What I did?”“You worked three jobs. I remember the smell of bleach on your hands before you came to my high school debate meets. I remember you collapsing on the couch after double shifts and still asking me to read my essays out loud.”“I did what I had to.”“You lived in slum housing for ten years so I could stay in the right dist
The Billionaire Married Me, Then Forgot How to Love Me 169 I Have A Brother?
(James)Theo comes in and drops a folder onto the table between us. No commentary, no warmup.“New York court filing. Today. Media breaks it tomorrow.”I open it and read the first page.Petitioner: Nico Morel.Filed against: Charles Hale.Claim: Paternity.There’s no estate motion yet. No emergency hearing. Just a direct, clean claim with legal teeth. It’s the first move in something that won’t stay quiet.“He’s serious?” I ask.Theo nods. “Filed by a firm out of Manhattan. Top reputation. Claiming as official heir to the Hale Legacy.”I flip to the background section. “Interesting.”Nico Morel. Six months older than me.Based in Los Angeles. Runs a high-powered litigation practice.“Six months older than me?” I say. I wonder if this might bring more Charles Hale kids out of the woodwork?But, if anyone just anted the money, they’d have been in touch long before now.I wonder what his game is, or maybe he’s only just found out himself.Theo sums it up. “Which means he’s the actual fi
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