MY POSSESSIVE BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 311 - チャプター 320

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Aunt Lou’s cozy living room, casting soft patterns across the wooden floors. I sat cross-legged on the couch, a mug of tea warming my hands. Across from me, Aunt Lou watched me intently, her eyes full of concern and patience.“It’s been days, Margarette,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “You’ve barely talked about what’s going on.”I sighed, staring into the swirling tea. “There’s not much to say,” I murmured, though the knot in my chest told a different story. “I saw William with that woman, Aunt Lou. She was fixing his tie, laughing like they shared some private joke. And William... he didn’t even look guilty.”Aunt Lou leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “But did you hear his explanation? Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like.”I shook my head. “I left before he could say anything. And now, the more I think about it, the more I feel like no explanation would change how I felt in that moment. My gut tells me so

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the Vancouver skyline in hues of orange and pink. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, but my thoughts felt as cold as a winter wind. I sat in the living room, absently watching Lucas build a tower with his wooden blocks. His little giggles filled the room, but my heart was heavy with the burden of unresolved emotions.Aunt Lou was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared tea. The tranquility of the scene was disrupted by the buzzing of my phone. My heart sank when I saw the name flashing on the screen: William.I stared at the phone, debating whether to answer, but ultimately let it go to voicemail. I had made it clear I needed time. Yet, a part of me wondered if I was avoiding him not because of anger, but because of fear—fear that his explanation might force me to confront the possibility that I’d been wrong.The next morning, as sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, Aunt Lou set down two steaming mugs of coffee and sat

The morning light spilled across the cottage floor, warming the wooden planks and bathing the room in a golden glow. I sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in my hands, watching the sun rise over the grove of trees outside. The smell of freshly baked muffins wafted from the oven, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt at peace.Lucas’s laughter carried from the living room, where he and William were busy constructing a makeshift fort from blankets and chairs. Their bond had strengthened over the past few weeks, and seeing them together filled me with a bittersweet mixture of relief and longing.Relief that Lucas was happy again. Longing for the kind of connection William and I had once shared.“Mommy!” Lucas’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts. He peeked around the corner, his face flushed with excitement. “Come see our fort! Daddy William says it’s the best one yet!”I set down my mug and followed him into the living room, where William st

A few days had passed since that unsettling encounter at the park. Life had returned to a semblance of normalcy, but the sight of Richard and Sarah had left an indelible mark on my thoughts. William, ever protective, had brushed it off as a coincidence, but deep down, I knew it was more.I tried to distract myself with routine tasks, one of which brought me to the local supermarket late in the afternoon. Lucas was at home with William, and I had planned to grab a few groceries before heading back. The fluorescent lights of the store buzzed softly overhead as I wandered through the aisles, mindlessly adding items to my cart.Turning a corner, I stopped abruptly.There he was—Richard.He was standing in the produce section, examining a bundle of kale with the kind of intensity one might reserve for life-or-death decisions. For a moment, I considered backing away before he noticed me, but it was too late.His gaze lifted, and our eyes met.“Margarette,” he said, his voice low and steady.

The quiet hum of the hospital machines was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. Lucas lay peacefully on the bed, his small hand clutching mine even in his sleep. My heart ached at the sight of him, his usually vibrant energy replaced by a fragile stillness.After what felt like an eternity, I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes for a moment. But instead of peace, memories of Richard—no, Leon—flashed behind my eyelids. His firm voice, the unshakable look in his eyes as he insisted on denying who he truly was, haunted me.Why was he in Vancouver? Why did he care so much about what happened to Lucas if he wasn’t who I thought he was?By the next morning, Lucas’s fever had broken, and the doctors assured me he was on the mend. Relief flooded my chest as I kissed his forehead. “You’re so brave, my little warrior,” I whispered, stroking his hair.“Mama,” he murmured, his voice still weak, “when can we go home?”“Soon, sweetheart. Very soon,” I promised.With Lucas stable, I