All Chapters of My Ex-Husband's Brother : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Avia's POV.Morning light slipped through the curtains, thin and sharp, landing across my face. I blinked slowly, pulling the duvet closer, and then I felt it—his arm still wrapped around me. His chest pressed against my back, steady and warm, as if nothing had happened between us last night.But so much had happened.I hadn’t planned for it to go that far. The words, the tears, the truth about what tore us apart—the miscarriage—had spilled out, raw and bleeding, and somehow in the middle of all that pain, he kissed me. I didn’t push him away. I couldn’t. It had been years of silence and cold shoulders, years of pretending I didn’t crave him even when I hated him. And last night I had let it all break.I shifted slightly, and his hold tightened. He knew I was awake.“Don’t move,” he murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “Please… just stay like this a little longer.”I froze. His words should have made me angry. Instead, they burned through me. My lips parted, but I said nothing. The

Chapter — Avia’s POVThe silence in the house was louder than anything I had ever heard. It clung to my skin, heavy, suffocating, reminding me of words I wished I could unhear.Brianne’s voice replayed in my head, that smug tone dripping with secrets she never meant for me to catch. My heart still raced from it. I sat at the edge of the bed, my knees pulled close, as if folding myself smaller could somehow drown out the echo of her laughter.What was she hiding?I couldn’t shake the way she had sounded—so sure, so careless. It wasn’t just her usual taunting. This was different. It was darker, crueler.I swallowed hard and pressed my palm to my chest. Tristan wasn’t home. He had left early, muttering something about meetings that needed his attention. I didn’t question him; I didn’t want to. But the empty space he left behind only made the walls feel thinner, the whispers in my mind louder.Brianne hadn’t left the house. She moved like she owned the place, her footsteps clicking softly

Avia’s POVThe night felt endless. Even after Tristan came back into the room, his warmth against me wasn’t enough to lull me into sleep.My body lay still beside his, but my mind wouldn’t shut off. Every sound—the ticking of the clock, the faint hum of the city outside, even the slow rhythm of his breathing—seemed too loud. My chest ached with a heaviness I couldn’t explain, a weight that pressed deeper with each passing second.By the time dawn broke, I had barely closed my eyes.Tristan stirred before me. His hand brushed lazily across my waist before he slipped out of bed. The sheets lifted, and the sudden absence of his warmth made me curl tighter into myself. I watched him silently through half-open eyes, the way he pulled on his shirt with quick, distracted movements. His jaw was set, brows pulled together in thought. He looked like a man carrying too much, and for a moment, I wanted to reach out and stop him. Ask him what was wrong. Demand answers to all the things he never s

Tristan’s POVMorning sunlight leaked in through the half-drawn blinds, cutting sharp lines across the floor of my room. My head was heavy, still buzzing from everything that had happened yesterday. I rolled over, staring at the ceiling, but it wasn’t blank anymore—it was crowded with voices, accusations, and the kind of silence you never really forget.Brianne showing up at the house still didn’t make sense. Her voice, her face, that stupid photo in her hand—it was all glued to my mind like it had been branded there. I kept telling myself it couldn’t be true, that I couldn’t possibly be the father of her child. I had tried explaining that to Avia last night, fumbling over words like a guilty man even though she had stopped me halfway.“I know you wouldn’t do that,” she had whispered, her face soft in the dim light. “You don’t have to prove it to me.”Her faith in me should have been enough to calm my nerves, but it hadn’t. Because the truth was, I didn’t even trust myself anymore. Ev

Avia’s POV I watched him as he came out of the bathroom, water dripping down the lines of his body. Droplets slid across his chest and traced the curve of his shoulders before disappearing into the towel wrapped low around his waist. His hair clung to his forehead, damp and dark, as he dragged the towel across it carelessly. I wanted to ask him a thousand things. Why he let Brianne back into this house. Why he looked like the weight of the world was pressing on his shoulders. Why his eyes seemed clouded with something heavier than fatigue. But I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I knew better than to push him when he was like this. Would telling him about the child inside me change anything? The thought clawed at me. My fingers tightened around my phone as I sat on the bed, pretending to scroll. Brianne had told him the child wasn’t his, and yet he hadn’t reacted. He hadn’t flinched. If anything, his silence had told me everything I needed to know—that he wanted me by his side rega