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Chapter 26: Focus

مؤلف: Scribe
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-04-18 14:41:41
Sarah

A cold hand slid under the waistband of her pajama pants, the touch both shocking and instantly familiar. Sarah moaned, shifting her hips and trying to turn her body toward the intrusion rather than away from it.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” Marcus’s voice rasped against her ear.

“Touch me,” she pleaded, her voice sounding desperate even to her own ears. She rocked her hips, seeking the heat of his fingers against the throb between her thighs, but he taunted her, his fingertips just bar
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  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 114: Tonight

    Genevieve GenevieveWhen I come out of the bathroom ten minutes later, Christian is lying flat on his back on the leather couch. He’s trying to relax, staring fixedly at the white ceiling, but he’s clearly not succeeding; his chest is heaving with short, shallow breaths that make his dirty white T-shirt rise and fall rapidly. The room still carries the faint, artificial tang of pine cleaner mixing with the lingering smell of his anxiety, making the atmosphere feel heavy and stifling.I drop my heavy bag down onto the hardwood floor with a dull thud that vibrates through the floorboards, and I sit right beside him on the edge of the cushion. Without asking, I lift his legs and rest his feet across my lap, trying to establish some physical connection to ground him—to tie him back down to reality before he floats away into a complete panic attack. He shifts slightly, but he doesn't pull away. His skin feels clammy even through his socks.“We’re only getting one chance at this, Christian

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 113: Grow a pair

    GenevieveI’m at the alley garage door below Christian’s condo at noon sharp on Monday. The sun is high in the sky, and the air carries a crisp, cutting autumn chill. The temperatures today will struggle to reach the high forties, with only a slight chance of rain in the early afternoon—and even if it comes, it won't last long. That’s good. It's perfect weather for trick-or-treating. A perfect night for murder. Somebody must have said that in a movie once.But what’s not so good? The garage door isn’t opening.Christian has always been meticulous about being timely, explicitly because he doesn't want me standing outside in the open alleyway, exposing myself to public view or lingering under neighbor eyes.You picked a really shitty day to start being late, Christian.I know the passcode to get into his garage, but I don’t want to use it myself. I don’t want to startle him. He’s already seemed like a raw nerve lately, and I’d prefer he come down, press the switch, and get me himself.I

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 111: Target Practice

    ChristianI lift the heavy Glock 17, taking a ragged breath as I line up the sights with the empty soda can resting on top of the mossy tree stump. My hands are cold, and despite my best efforts, the long, heavy barrel trembles slightly in my grip. I squeeze the trigger.Pop.A muffled, hollow sound escapes the barrel—nothing remotely approaching the thunderous, ear-splitting report you’d expect from firing a bullet. The silencer works just fine, muffling the blast into something that barely sounds like a weapon. The problem isn't the gun. The problem is the person firing it.The soda can and the tree stump, sitting just ten paces away in the damp morning air, remain completely undisturbed. The bullet buried itself harmlessly in the dirt somewhere behind it.“It’s harder to aim with a suppressor,” says Gavin, stepping up beside me and shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “It sits high on the barrel. You can’t see the front sights as clearly.”“I can’t hit anything,” I say, my vo

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 110: Golden

    Christian Saturday morning. I flip up the collar on my heavy jacket, trying to block out the bite of the early morning breeze. Out here in the heavily shaded woods, beneath the dense canopy of pine and oak, it feels like nighttime, not one hour past dawn. It can’t be more than forty degrees, and my breath blossoms in faint, pale plumes before disappearing into the damp chill.Gavin comes walking down the leaf-strewn trail a few minutes later, his heavy boots crunching against the frosty ground. He’s wearing a thick green hunting jacket and a faded cap pulled low over his head.“You sleep much?” he asks me, stopping a few feet away and eyeing me up and down.“Hardly at all,” I admit, my teeth threatening to chatter as I shove my hands deep into my pockets.“You’re nervous.”“Hell yes, I’m nervous,” I shoot back, my voice hushed against the vast silence of the forest. “This would be much easier if you did this, not me. You’re the hunter. You’re the one who actually knows guns.”Gavin s

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 109: Glock

    GenevieveFriday, noon sharp.I arrive in the alley by Christian’s garage door and type in the passcode. The door grinds open with a slow, mechanical groan that echoes off the narrow brick walls. I close my umbrella, step inside out of the chill, and Christian—waiting right by the heavy interior door—hits the button to close it behind me. The garage door slides back down, sealing us into the dim, shadowy quiet.Christian looks the same superficially as always: the male-model, pretty-boy thing with the sharp jawline and thick hair. But he’s all nerves today, wearing a deep frown on his face and dark circles under his eyes that even his expensive skin creams haven't managed to hide.I follow him up the stairs, my heels clicking softly against the steps. It smells different in here today. Usually, there isn’t much of a scent one way or the other—maybe a faint hint of his overpriced cologne, or a trace of body odor if he’s been working out recently. Now, the air is thick and pungent with

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 108: I’m Sorry

    SarahMy heart does a violent, dramatic flip inside my chest.Why does he always know the exact right words to say to make me melt into a puddle at his feet? It’s like he has an innate key to my soul, knowing precisely how to shatter my defenses and remind me how deeply I love him.I just don’t know if it’s all part of a brilliant, practiced act, or if it’s raw, unfiltered truth. My head is so thoroughly twisted after last night that I don't know who—or what—to trust anymore, leaving me completely reeling.“Sarah,” he pleads softly, the pad of his thumb rising to gently stroke over my cheekbone. “Please, just listen to me for one moment, okay?”I give a small, hesitant nod, having to swallow down a thick wave of emotion. All at once, hot tears prick at the backs of my eyes, and a heavy lump forms in my throat. It’s the sheer tone of his voice that breaks me—it matches the hollow sadness inside my own chest, completely stripped of his usual corporate armor. It leaves me seconds away fr

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 17: Blurred Lines

    MarcusSarah’s beauty is as equally captivating as it is frustrating.As Margo fusses over one of the many outfits she’s tried on, I continue to pretend to focus on my phone. Sitting in this dressing room while Sarah plays dress-up is the last thing I should be doing right now. I’ve got a never-end

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 5: Silence

    JulianThe door clicked shut behind Sarah.Julian stood frozen, one hand still gripping the back of the chair like it was the only thing keeping him upright. On the table, steam still curled lazily from the plate of Jollof rice and suya she had prepared. The smell filled the kitchen — rich, spiced

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 4: Divorce Papers

    Sarah “How much did you take, Sarah?” Julian’s voice was low and flat, stripped of anything warm. He stood on the other side of the kitchen table like a stranger wearing her husband’s face. Sarah’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach. The folded medical report in her purse suddenly felt like

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 3: Sign It

    Sarah The elevator chimed softly as it reached the ground floor, but Sarah didn’t move immediately. For a few seconds, she just sat there, shaking, her tears falling freely now, her world rearranging itself into something unrecognizable. Then, slowly, she pushed herself up. By the time the doors

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