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Chapter 11: Reconnaissance
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2026-02-02 14:40:17
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The Wife Who Returned Chapter 11: Reconnaissance
I woke up to the alarm at six AM, the same as every morning. Adrian was still asleep beside me, one arm thrown over his face, mouth slightly open. The sight of him used to make me smile. Now it just made me tired.I slipped out of bed without waking him and went through the motions. Shower. Skincare. Hair pulled back in a low ponytail, sleek and professional. I stood in front of my closet longer than necessary, staring at the clothes like they held answers.I chose a sheer white blouse delicate enough to be feminine but with a camisole underneath to keep it work-appropriate and paired it with high-waisted black dress pants that made my legs look longer. Simple gold studs in my ears. A thin gold chain at my throat. Minimal makeup, just enough to look polished.When I looked in the mirror, I saw someone who looked put-together. Someone who belonged in the world instead of apologizing for existing in it.Adrian stirred as I was leaving."You look sexy," he mumbled, his eyes trailing over
The Wife Who Returned Chapter 9: The Lawyer's Visit
The call came two days after Maribel's visit.I was making coffee, actually making it this time, not throwing expensive lattes in the trash when my phone rang. Unknown number. I almost didn't answer, but something made me pick up."Miss Arkwright?" The voice was warm, familiar, like coming home after a long journey. "It's Whitmore. Whitmore Blackmoor."My chest tightened. I gripped the counter to steady myself."Mr. Whitmore," I managed, my voice catching. In my first life, I'd taken him for granted. This kind old man who'd taken me in when my family threw me away, who'd fed me and clothed me and loved me like a daughter. I'd been so busy chasing Adrian's approval that I'd never properly thanked him. Never told him what he meant to me.And by the time I'd realized, he'd been dying. I'd sat by his hospital bed in my second year of cancer treatment, both of us wasting away, and I'd finally told him I loved him. He'd smiled and said he always knew."I hope I'm not calling too early," he
The Wife Who Returned Chapter 8: A Little Crazy
The scent clung to her cashmere sweater, subtle but unmistakable. I bought him that cologne for his birthday last year. Had breathed it in a thousand times when he held me, kissed me, lied to me.And now it was on Maribel.My vision went red for a moment. Pure, blinding rage. She'd been with him. Last night, after our fight, after he'd stormed out angry because I wouldn't sleep with him, he'd gone to her. And she'd comforted him. Or fucked him. Or both.They were so open about it. So careless. Did they think I was stupid? Did they think I wouldn't notice?"Sera?" Maribel's voice cut through my fury. "You okay? You zoned out there for a second."I forced myself to breathe. To smile. To play the role of the oblivious friend who didn't notice that her best friend was wearing her fiancé's cologne like a trophy."Sorry," I said, my voice remarkably steady. "Just tired. You were saying something about the gala?""Right!" She brightened again. "So you'll come? It's black tie, very fancy. All
The Wife Who Returned Chapter 7:Maribel's First Move
The knock came at exactly eight-thirty in the morning.I knew it would. I'd been sitting on the couch for the past twenty minutes, coffee growing cold in my hands, waiting for it. Because this was how it had gone the first time. Adrian storming out after our fight, me spending the night alone, and then Maribel showing up the next morning with coffee and concern and poison disguised as friendship.Right on schedule."Sera? It's me!" Her voice sang through the door, bright and cheerful. "I brought breakfast!"I closed my eyes, took a breath, and reminded myself: I couldn't kill her. Not yet. Not without a plan. Not without making sure she suffered the way she'd made me suffer.I opened the door.Maribel stood there looking flawless, as always. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves over a cream-colored cashmere sweater that probably cost more than my monthly rent. Designer jeans that hugged her curves. That signature red lipstick painted on with precision. In her hands, she carried a tra
The Wife Who Returned Chapter 6: Surprise and Acknowledgment
The elevator doors closed. We stood in silence.Then he spoke, his voice low and raspy, like gravel rolling over silk. "You look different."I froze. I turned to look at him. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't read. Not judgment. Not attraction. Just... observation. Like I was a puzzle piece that had suddenly shifted and he was trying to figure out where I fit now."I—" I started, but the elevator dinged.The ground floor to the twentieth floor had never felt so fast.The doors opened and I bolted, practically running out of the elevator and into the hallway. Behind me, I could feel his eyes still watching, but I didn't look back.My heart was pounding. Not from fear. From something else. Something that felt like being seen for the first time in my entire life.---The office was already buzzing with activity. I made my way to my desk in the administrative pool, keeping my head down.Except people were staring.I felt their eyes following me. Heard the whispers start as
The Wife Who Returned Chapter 5: The Mask Begins
Adrian wasn't home when I finally dragged myself off the couch.Thank God.I'd spent the rest of the day after Maribel left sitting in silence, cataloging every memory, every moment, every detail of the life I'd lived or would live or had dreamed? The semantics didn't matter. What mattered was that I now knew the truth, and I had to act on it.But every time I thought about confronting Adrian, my hands would curl into fists and I'd imagine them wrapped around his throat. Or reaching for that razor in the bathroom. Or pushing him down a staircase and watching him break the way I had broken.I couldn't kill him. Not yet. Not without proof. Not without a plan.So I needed distance. Control. A mask to hide behind while I figured out what to do next.First thing: money. I needed to stop hemorrhaging money into Adrian's bottomless pit of debt. The inheritance was three years away, but before it came, there would be legal battles. My uncles, those vultures who'd cast me out after my grandfat
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