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Chapter 85: He Knew Before I Did
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2026-09-09 03:31:52
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The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 88: My Husband Was Terrible at Pottery
"You said practical clothing." "I said comfortable. Those are different words." "You knew what would happen." "I had theories." He looked down at his sleeves, already rolled to the elbow despite his obvious resistance to the whole enterprise, and followed me inside like a man walking into a meeting he hadn't been briefed for.The instructor demonstrated the wheel with the kind of casual competence that made it look effortless, clay rising smoothly between her hands into something resembling an actual bowl, and Roman watched with the intense focus he usually reserved for quarterly earnings. "That looks manageable." "It is not manageable." "You've never tried it." "I know myself."I was right. Within thirty seconds his clay had gone lopsided, listing hard to one side like a building mid-collapse, and he stared at it with genuine betrayal, as if the material itself had personally failed to meet expectations. "It was centered." "It was not centered." "The instructor said it was centered."
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 87: My Husband Was Bad at Being
I told him at breakfast that this week's date was mine to plan, and he took it about as well as I expected, which was to say he immediately began treating the information like a puzzle he intended to solve before we ever left the house. "Just tell me the general category." "No." "Indoor or outdoor." "No." "Formal or casual." "Roman." "I'm asking reasonable questions." "You're asking reconnaissance questions."By the time I'd finished getting dressed, he'd already changed his shirt twice, apparently guessing his way toward the correct level of formality through sheer trial and error, and I found him standing in front of the closet holding two nearly identical jackets like the fate of the evening depended on his choice."Those are the same jacket.""They are not the same jacket.""Roman, they are the same color, the same cut, and I genuinely cannot tell them apart.""One has a different lining.""Nobody will see the lining.""I'll know."I left him to it and went downstairs, and he appe
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 86: We Started Keeping This Marriage
I turned the coaster over in my hands one more time before setting it beside the photograph, and something occurred to me watching the two of them sit there together, our early relationship reduced to a napkin, a ticket stub, a scrap of paper neither of us had planned to keep."We should start a new box."Roman looked up. "For what?""For this. Now. Not evidence we used to love each other. Evidence we're actually living."He considered that with more seriousness than the idea probably deserved, then went and found a small wooden document box from somewhere in his study, sturdy and plain, the kind of thing that had probably held nothing more interesting than old contracts until this moment. "This is good. Sturdy." "You're already treating this like an infrastructure project." "Everything worth keeping requires infrastructure." "You're impossible."We wandered through the townhouse trying to decide what qualified, and Roman's first suggestion was a spare key to the coffee machine, which
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 85: He Knew Before I Did
"So explain it," I said, still holding the photograph. "What was so significant about me talking to someone else that you decided to fall in love.""It wasn't the talking.""You literally wrote that on the back.""I wrote it after. The moment happened during.""During what, exactly."He took a breath like he was about to give a very dignified answer, and I could already tell it was going to be nothing of the sort. "You were arguing with the curator about mounting technique. He wanted to display something in a way you thought would damage it within a decade, and you got that look." "What look." "The one where your whole face decides something is worth fighting about and you stop caring who's listening." "That's not romantic, Roman, that's a description of me being difficult." "You were magnificent." "I was insufferable." "I have never once found you insufferable while being magnificent. It's one of your best qualities."I made a face at him, but I could feel it landing anyway, that par
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 84: My Husband Kept Our First Date
“You kept something,” I repeated, entirely unconvinced. “You. The man who has a filing system for his filing system.” “Sentiment doesn’t require chaos.” “Sentiment usually comes with a little dust, Roman.” “I have staff.”He led me into the study once we got home, that quiet room he almost never let get messy, everything exactly where he believed it belonged. I expected him to produce nothing more than a story with no proof behind it after all, some clever way of winning the argument without actually winning it. Instead he pulled a small wooden box down from the top shelf of his desk, unremarkable, plain, the kind of thing you’d walk past in a shop without a second glance. But the way he held it gave him away immediately, careful in a way he wasn’t careful with almost anything else in the house, like it weighed more than its size suggested.“That’s not standard office storage.”“It has a purpose.”“Which is?”“You’ll see.”He set it on the desk between us and lifted the lid slowly, an
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 83: I Introduced Roman as My Husband
The woman barely paused before returning to her question about consolidants, entirely unbothered by the fact that I'd just introduced a stranger as my husband in the middle of a bookstore, and I answered her properly, watching Roman out of the corner of my eye the whole time. He stood there looking, quite frankly, delighted with himself in a way that had nothing to do with anything he'd actually done.Once she'd gathered her things and wished me luck with the next project, I turned to him fully."You're doing the face.""I don't know what that means.""You know exactly what it means.""I have no idea what my face is doing. It's my face. I don't monitor it."We walked home slowly, no rush to be anywhere, and I kept catching him still wearing it, that same unbearable satisfaction, until I finally made him say it out loud."I liked being yours before I was anything else in that room," he admitted, no dramatics attached to it, just the plain fact of it dropped into the conversation like it
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