Semua Bab Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Viola McCoy I finally pull back from the hug, breathless and shivering. Rain drips from Logan’s hair, his eyes glossy and dark with worry. His jacket is soaked, clinging to his broad shoulders, and his fingers twitch at his sides like he’s not sure if he should reach for me again.“What are you doing here?” I whisper, my voice rasped from the storm of panic that had only just begun to settle.“I was worried about you,” he says, his gaze searching mine.I step aside, my fingers trembling as I reach for the door and lock it behind him with an audible click. My whole body is humming from fear and adrenaline and something I can’t name when he’s near. I grab the towel from the dresser and hand it to him wordlessly.He runs it through his hair in slow, rough movements, droplets still falling to the hardwood floor. I stare a second too long before blinking myself back to reality.“Did you drive in this rain?” I ask, crossing my arms. I don’t mean for it to sound like I’m scolding him,

Viola McCoy My heart is thumping as I walk down the hallway. The air is cold, almost biting against my skin, but I don't feel it—not really. My bare feet press into the smooth floor as I move, each step echoing faintly under the hallway lights. I can still taste him. Logan. His mouth on mine. The way his hand gripped my waist. I can feel the ghost of his lips against my neck and it makes me shiver—not just from the memory, but from shame. I haven’t even filed for divorce yet. What the hell am I doing? He asked me to run away with him. Just like that. "Run away with me." His voice had cracked a little when he said it—like it mattered to him. Like I mattered to him. But to where? To what kind of life? Am I supposed to erase everything and start over in a heartbeat? With a man who doesn’t even know the full depth of my damage? My chest tightens, and I suck in a breath as I reach the end of the hallway and collapse onto the bench in the lounge. It's quiet. The receptionist is slu

Viola McCoy He’s still unconscious. It’s been over three hours since the doctors last checked on him. They’d said something about stable vitals and needing rest, and then left the room with their clipboards. I haven’t moved from this spot since. I shouldn’t be here. God knows I shouldn’t. After everything Julian put me through, all the manipulation, the gaslighting, the shouting matches that left me in tears and him in smug silence… I have no business sitting by his hospital bed. But here I am. Staring at his pale face. Listening to the rhythmic beep of the monitors. Watching the way his chest rises and falls beneath that bland, stiff hospital sheet. All because I couldn’t turn down that one request from Susan. The door creaks open behind me and I don’t have to turn to know it’s her. “Thank you for really coming, Viola,” Susan says softly. I nod, swallowing the lump that’s been stuck in my throat since I first walked in. “It’s fine.” I rise slowly to my feet. My legs feel sti

Viola McCoy I don’t move.I can’t.I’m still standing there, frozen, like if I stay still long enough, maybe the world will reverse itself and he won’t walk away.But he does. He already did.He’s gone.Logan Reynolds… is gone.I let him walk away.Just like that.And I didn’t stop him.I couldn’t.Because somewhere between his voice breaking and my chest cracking wide open, I realized he was right.All of it. Every damn word he said.I do keep him waiting. I do reach for him only when I’m hurting. I do make him feel like an afterthought—because maybe deep down, I’ve been so scared of what he made me feel that I never let myself choose him.And now he’s gone.My legs finally give in. I walk slowly to the low concrete ledge near the railing and just… sit.The wind is sharp against my skin. My arms wrap around myself, like that might keep me from unraveling. Like I can hold all the pieces of me together with just my fingers and silence.But I can’t.I can’t hold it in anymore.The

Viola McCoy Today has to be the slowest day I’ve ever experienced. What’s happening? It’s like the seconds drag on more than necessary and I’ve lived a whole day in the last seven hours.But at least it’s almost 7 p.m. and time to leave.Logan didn’t show up at the office. Figures. He’s probably avoiding me.I close my laptop with a dull thud, the sound echoing in the quiet corner of my workspace. My fingers feel numb as I gather my things—mouse, charger, lip balm, and that stupid leather-bound planner I haven’t even had the mental capacity to use today. It all goes into my bag with force.“Bye, Viola!” someone calls from across the office. I don’t even bother checking who it is.“Bye,” I manage, tight-lipped and polite, forcing a smile that burns my cheeks.I step into the elevator, and the silence inside feels like a vacuum.Just me, my thoughts, and the soft mechanical hum.When I step into the parking lot, that familiar pang of forgetfulness hits.Damn it.My car isn’t he