All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Amelia's eyes seemed to catch fire in the dying light, a storm of emotions in those depths. I found myself captivated, unable to look away as she spoke. "I... I don't know what comes over me when I talk about Bertha," Amelia admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She wrung her hands in her lap, a nervous habit I'd noticed more and more lately. "It's like I become someone else entirely. Someone I don't particularly like." She sighed, I could tell she was trying to force a smile but failed. What I had expected her to question…was my past, how I ended up in that position, finding her. I omitted what I really was…who I was. I nodded slowly, remembering the subtle shifts in her demeanor, the sharpness that would creep into her voice whenever her sister's name came up, it was the same with Bertha…when it came to Amelia, she was a completely different person, a beast rather than the soft woman I had once loved. "I've noticed," I spoke carefully, not wanting to upset her furthe

I stirred awake, blinking lazily as sunlight streamed through the partially open curtains. For a moment, I lay there, savoring the warmth of my bed and the peaceful quiet of the morning. Then, with a jolt, I realized something was off. The room was far too bright compared to the time I had set for my alarm. I stood up abruptly and I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. My eyes widened in disbelief, it was already 10:30 AM. I had slept through my alarm! "Shit, shit, shit," I muttered, throwing off the covers and scrambling out of bed. My mind raced, trying to remember everything I needed to do today. The exhibition... my painting... I paused mid-panic, a wave of relief washing over me as I recalled that Vincent had promised to take care of transporting my painting to the art gallery. I let out a low sigh as I tried to calm my breathing. All that was left for me to do was get ready for the evening event. As I stood there, running a hand through my sleep-tousled hair, a memory f

AMELIAAs Roman and I stood in the foyer, I couldn't help but feel excitement inside me. The matching outfits, which had seemed like such a playful idea earlier, now felt like a statement - one I wasn't entirely sure I was ready to make. But looking at Roman, tall and handsome in his perfectly tailored suit, I couldn't bring myself to regret it."Shall we?" Roman asked, offering me his arm with a smile that made my heart skip a few beatsI nodded, linking my arm through his. "Let's go wow them with our impeccable fashion sense," I joked, trying to lighten the mood and calm my nerves.As we made our way to the front door, Colson appeared, looking slightly frazzled but managing a professional smile. "The car is ready, Mr. Wellington," he reported, if I didn't know any better, I would've said he was glaring at Roman. He then handed Roman a set of keys."Thank you, Colson," Roman replied, his voice warm and sarcastic. "And thank you for all your hard work today. I hope you can get some re

I nodded, suddenly feeling a strange mix of terror and exhilaration. As we approached the crowd, I found myself studying my own work with new eyes, trying to see it as these strangers did.After years of being told by my father that my love for painting was just me throwing my head up in the clouds, me making another excuse to be useless in the family…seeing this, seeing what I had done out of a basement which I had begged for. It was…words couldn't describe it. The painting was large, spanning nearly the entire wall. At first glance, it appeared to be an abstract explosion of color – swirls of deep blues and purples intermingling with bursts of fiery reds and oranges. But as you looked closer, shapes began to emerge from the chaos. Here, the curve of a woman's back. There, the silhouette of a cityscape. And woven throughout, barely perceptible unless you knew to look for them, were words and phrases, worked into the very texture of the paint.It was a piece born of my jumbled memor

I should? Would my mother be proud of me if she saw me now? How long has it been since I've felt this…happy.I felt my eyes water, despite how hard I tried to stop it. I could not help the emotions that threatened to spill. Before I could respond, Vincent cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, now that the initial excitement has died down, how about we go explore the rest of the gallery?" he suggested, his gaze flickering briefly between Roman and me. "There are some other amazing pieces I think you'll both enjoy."Roman nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "That sounds like a good idea," he said. Then, with a slight hesitation, he added, "Actually, if it's alright with you, Amelia, I think I'd like to take a look around on my own for a bit. We can regroup later?"I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the thought of being separated from him, but I quickly pushed it aside, offering him a reassuring smile. "Of course, Roman. Take your time. Vince