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Chapter 91: My Husband Admitted He Was Jealous
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-09-16 01:33:12
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The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 91: My Husband Admitted He Was Jealous
"I'm not jealous," he said, immediately, entirely too fast to be convincing."Roman.""I'm processing information.""You're jealous."He was quiet for a second, jaw working like he was deciding whether dignity was worth the fight. "Fine. A little." He said it like a concession in a negotiation he'd clearly lost before it started. "Not because I think anything's happening. I trust you completely. I trust him, professionally, as much as I can trust a man who apparently gets to look at your work up close on a Tuesday night while I'm across town not understanding a single thing you're talking about.""You could learn.""I have no interest in humidity readings.""You have interest in whatever lets you understand this part of my life.""That's not the same as interest in the wood itself."I laughed, delighted, and didn't rush to smooth it over the way I might have years ago, some old instinct to manage his feelings before they became inconvenient. I just let him sit in it, watching him try
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 90: My Husband Heard Adrian’s Name
I answered on the third ring, Roman still close enough that I could feel him not-quite listening, pretending sudden interest in the bowl he'd been trying to relocate all evening."Sorry, I know it's late," Adrian said, no preamble, straight into the problem the way he always was. "The Hendricks panel. The one we flagged for the humidity issue last month. The reading spiked again tonight and I don't trust myself to make the call on whether we pull it or leave it another week.""How high?"He gave me the number, and I felt myself shift automatically into the part of my brain that lived for exactly this kind of problem, running through the material, the timeline, the risk of moving it versus the risk of leaving it exposed. Roman watched me change in real time, laughing wife dissolving into something more precise, more certain, and I caught him noticing without saying anything about it."Pull it," I said. "Tonight if you can get someone in, tomorrow morning at the latest. That reading's c
The Billionaire’s Wife Does Not Exist Chapter 89: We Forgot About the Rest of the World
"It's going in the living room." "It is going nowhere near the living room." "It's earned its place." "It has earned banishment." I carried the crooked bowl the entire drive home like a trophy, and Roman spent the whole time looking at it in the passenger seat with the wariness of a man escorting an unexploded device.Back at the townhouse, I set it deliberately on the console table by the door, and he moved it to the kitchen counter within ten minutes, muttering something about it being "closer to disposal" from there. I moved it back. He relocated it a second time. By the third relocation we'd stopped pretending to be serious about it and were mostly just laughing, clay still drying in patches on both of us from the studio."You have some on your neck," he said, reaching to brush it away, his thumb lingering a beat longer than the cleanup strictly required."You have some in your eyebrow.""That's structurally impossible.""It's very possible. It's right there."He went to check in
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
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