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Chapter 19: I Almost Forgot Why I Left His Bed
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2026-08-15 22:40:26
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The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 20: I Didn’t Want Another Wedding
For one dangerous second, I let myself imagine it. Roman standing beside me in front of cameras instead of denying me. My ring back on my hand. My own name spoken out loud where the whole world could hear it. No Camille. No hiding. Everything the ballroom had taken, reversed."Marry me?" I asked."Yes."I pulled slightly away from him. "I'm already married to you."He looked confused, started to explain that he meant publicly, properly, something the manipulated records couldn't touch."No," I said. "You don't get to give me a second wedding because your family stole the first one."I wasn't rejecting him. I was rejecting the substitute."I don't want another beautiful ceremony pretending the last seven years can just be restarted," I told him. "I want my original marriage acknowledged. The original date. The original certificate. The years I actually spent as your wife." I met his eyes. "I don't want you to marry me again so everyone thinks you finally chose me. I want them to know y
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 19: I Almost Forgot Why I Left His Bed
I closed the distance and kissed him properly this time, no hesitation left in it. He held back at first, careful, uncertain how far I wanted this to go.I pulled back just enough to ask, "Why are you still holding back?""Because you coming home doesn't mean I get everything back."That undid something in me more than any declaration could have. I kissed him again, deliberately this time, giving him permission to stop treating me like something fragile, and he finally answered with everything he'd been holding in check for weeks.He still knew exactly where I liked his hand. He still knew when I was overwhelmed before I did. When his mouth found the place near my jaw that had always undone me, I made the same small sound I'd been making for seven years, and I felt him notice it, felt the way he held onto that recognition like it mattered more than anything else in the room. I remembered him just as completely, and that realization was pleasure and grief tangled together so tightly I
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 18: My Husband Watched Another Man Choose Me
I couldn't concentrate at the studio. The kiss kept surfacing in fragments, Roman waiting for me to move first, his hand finding my waist the way it always had, the way he'd let go the instant I stopped without a single word of protest. I was irritated with myself, mostly because it had felt so frighteningly natural, like no time had passed at all.Wanting Roman again had never really been the question. Trusting him still was.Adrian's message came midmorning, asking if I wanted to see the rest of the collection that afternoon. I said yes, and not to prove anything to Roman. Adrian had known me as a restorer before any of this happened, and he still saw me that way now, which was worth more to me than I wanted to admit.He arrived with another damaged piece from the collection, trusting me with it the way he always had, and we fell into an easy rhythm that had nothing complicated underneath it. At some point he noticed I wasn't fully present."Did the complicated husband situation get
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 17: The First Time I kissed My Husband Again
For a few seconds after I woke, before memory caught up with me, everything felt exactly like our marriage used to. Roman's arm was around my waist, my cheek against his chest, our legs tangled the way they'd always ended up by morning no matter how far apart we started. I recognized his breathing before I recognized anything else, the familiar weight of his thumb resting against my side.Then the ballroom came rushing back. Camille. The erased marriage. Everything.I went still."Good morning," he said quietly. He was already awake."This was easier when you were asleep."He didn't let go, because I'd told him not to the night before, but he asked, "Do you want me to move?""Not yet."That surprised me more than it surprised him.He remembered I hated talking right after waking, and stayed quiet while I woke up properly. I remembered he'd always been up before his alarm, watching the ceiling like he was already three meetings into his day. I complained that his arm had gone numb unde
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 16: My Husband Came Back To My Bed
He stopped and turned back down the hall."May I come in?"That was strange to hear, in the doorway of a room that used to be his without question. He waited until I said yes before crossing the threshold, and he didn't move toward the bed, choosing the chair by the window instead, like someone visiting rather than someone who lived here."You can sit on the bed, Roman. I'm angry with you, not contagious.""The bed is more dangerous."I almost laughed, and after a moment he crossed the room and sat on the far edge, keeping enough distance between us that it felt deliberate rather than accidental."Do you still work until ridiculous hours?" I asked."Do you still steal every blanket in the house?""You used to claim I kicked you in my sleep.""You did. Repeatedly. With purpose."I laughed for real this time, and for a few minutes we just talked, easy and unguarded, the way we used to before any of this happened. No Camille. No Chairman. No trust. Just two people who used to know each o
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 15: I Went Home To My Husband
I couldn't sleep. His jacket hung over the chair where I'd left it, and his words kept circling back no matter how many times I told myself to let them go. *I'd sleep in another room. I don't trust myself in our bedroom yet.* What bothered me more, lying there in the dark, was that I wasn't sure I trusted myself either.I got up for water somewhere around two and stood in my half-furnished kitchen, boxes still stacked against one wall from the studio I'd barely managed to save. Most of my winter clothes, my restoration references, half the documents I actually needed were still at Hartwell House, untouched since before the gala. I could wait. I told myself I would wait.By morning I'd packed an overnight bag instead.I wasn't going back to Roman. I was going back to my house, to collect what belonged to me, and I said that to myself the entire drive over like it might make it true.The house recognized me before anyone inside it did. I knew which floorboard near the second landing cre
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