Lahat ng Kabanata ng ENTANGLED WITH MY CONTRACTED HUSBAND : Kabanata 141 - Kabanata 150

His once best friend. His brother. The one individual he trusted with everything. Haven paced back and forward, waiting for Matthew to show up. He had needed to see him, texting in a rage-filled flurry. "We ought to talk. Meet me at the old park by the field. now." Haven knew this discussion would not end gently, not with the way his feelings were bubbling over, but he didn’t care. The bond he once shared with Matthew was smashed past repair. The faint sound of a car drawing nearer snapped Haven out of his thoughts. He turned, his eyes narrowing as Matthew’s recognizable dim car pulled into the park. The headlights enlightened the concrete, casting long shadows, and after that the motor cut off. Matthew walked out of the car, his expression reluctant, his movements moderate, as ifhe was walking into a minefield. In multiple ways, he was. “Haven,” Matthew called out, raising a hand in a peace signal. “Let’s talk, man.” Haven's chest sank as he took a step forward. His eyes bursted

And Matthew had stood there, powerless, taking hit after hit, knowing full well that he merited each single one. Matthew moaned as he moved, the weight of his body pulling on bruised ribs. Each movement hurt, but nothing stung as much as the realization that he had lost the one person who had continuously been there for him. Haven had been more than just a friend, he had been a brother. They’d developed up together, explored life’s trials side by side. And now, it is over. The reason? Alexis. Matthew could still listen to her voice, the way she’d whispered his name in the dark, the way her lips had felt against his. He clenched his clench hands at the memory, outrage surging inside him, not just at her but at himself. He had known earlier. Alexis wasn’t just anyone, she was Haven’s wife, the lady he had promised to love and protect. And Matthew had taken that away. He moaned once more, this time from the enthusiastic weight squeezing down on him. The disgrace of it all was choking

Each moment felt like another cut piercing in his intestine. As he walked back toward his car, his legs felt like they might give out. Everything he had built, everything he had accepted in, was crumbling around him. And for the first time, he realized that there was nothing left to salvage. He slid back into the driver’s seat, his hands shaking as he began the car. He didn’t look back as he pulled out of the park. There was no reason to. The sun had set, casting long shadows over the street ahead. And as Haven drove away from the park, away from Alexis and Matthew, he felt the smashing weight of his modern reality settle on his shoulders. He was genuinely alone now.Haven sat at the edge of the worn-out couch, his hands clenched firmly in his lap, his knuckles white with the pressure he couldn't shake. His eyes, obscured by restless evenings and disappointments profound to specific, gazed vacantly at the TV. The news stayed on, but Haven couldn’t center. He was long lost in his own

Haven sat in his living room, the ticking of the clock echoing uproariously in the quiet. The once energetic room, where giggling and discussion filled the air, now felt like a spooky shell of its previous self. He looked at the phone on the table, holding up for a call that never came, his leg jittering with on edge vitality. It had been weeks since Alexis left, and the developing chasm between them felt agonising. He replayed the occasions of that night over and over in his mind, each time pondering how things had spiralled so out of control. The argument, the hollering, and after that his clench hand meeting with Matthew’s face. He could still feel the sting in his knuckles from the punch. He hadn’t meant for things to go that far. Matthew had been self-centered, provocative, and Haven had just snapped. But Alexis… she hadn’t seen it that way. She had looked at him, not with stun or concern, but with disgust. The sound of a key turning in the door startled him from his considerat

Haven sat at the edge of his bed, gazing at the purge walls of his room. His eyes were coated over, still puffy from the restless evenings that had ended up his new typical. The calm murmur of the fridge in the kitchen and the intermittent squeak of the ceiling fan were the sounds that filled the still air. It had been weeks since Alexis left, but her flight waited like an expanding wound, crude and rotting.At first, he had tried to form a sense of it all, to replay each event, each minute that might have driven her to walk away. How had he missed the signs? What did he do wrong? But those thoughts were like needles in his mind, wounding persistently, and before long, indeed thinking about her got to be as well difficult. He required something to make it gloomy. Something to obscure the edges of the memory that frequented him each time he closed his eyes. Haven faltered toward the little bar in the corner of the living room, his legs temperamental and insecure. The cabinet was not n