Dear Husband, My Turn To Love You のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

SebastianI lay on my side, just watching her breathe.Even in sleep, she was heartbreakingly beautiful, lashes fanned against flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted, skin still glistening faintly from last night. There was something sacred in the quietness that hung between us. Her body, wrapped in the sheets, felt like home, and God, how I’d missed this—missed her.My fingers moved of their own accord, ghosting across the curve of her waist, craving connection, craving her.Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, hazy with sleep. "Morning already?" she murmured, voice soft and groggy.I gave her a small smile, brushing a lock of hair from her temple. "Yeah. Sun’s up."She groaned, her face scrunching adorably as she curled into my chest, her bare skin pressed against mine. "Why do mornings even exist?"I chuckled, stroking her spine. "Some divine punishment, I guess."She let out a sleepy grumble. "Nights are better.""Why’s that?"Her lips curled into the faintest smirk against my skin. "

SebastianI opened the door to my office, and she stepped inside like she owned the damn place—calm, poised, and way too confident for someone I didn’t even remember inviting.Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as her eyes scanned the room, like she was mentally taking inventory of every inch. Meanwhile, I made my way back to my desk, settling in while Olivia sank into the couch like she was trying not to claw the woman’s eyes out already."Olivia," I called, my voice low but firm.She raised an eyebrow at me but stood, walking over with that slow, deliberate sway she knew damn well I liked. When she reached me, I patted my lap with a look that left no room for argument. She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, slipping onto my lap. My arm curled around her waist, grounding me.Now that things were in place, I turned my gaze to the stranger who dared to crash my morning."So, Miss Sinclair," I said, lacing my voice with cool sarcasm, "what exactly was so earth-shatterin

OliviaThis was bad. I tried to focus on the runway, to keep my poise, my pace, my damn balance, but it was impossible. Every time my eyes flicked toward the crowd, there he was. Sebastian. Grinning at me like he'd just uncovered my biggest secret.I could practically feel the panic bubbling up in my throat.How the hell was I supposed to explain this? I already had a mountain of lies waiting to crash down on me, and now the man I called my husband had just watched me strut down a runway like some mystery model. In a mask. Like this was some kind of undercover mission from Vogue.Maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t recognized me?Yeah right.Who was I even kidding? The way he waved? That cocky little tilt of his head? That man knew. Knew exactly who was behind the mask. I was supposed to be comforting my injured friend. That was the story I fed him. The truth? I was walking a red carpet under a fake name, competing with a clone who was trying to steal my place in the fashion world.I started

Olivia"I don't like her being here, Sebastian," I said flatly, letting him lace our fingers as I stared at the front door like it had offended me personally.He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, his voice calm but annoyingly reasonable. "She’s been helping us, Love. She said it’s something important, something we need to see.""And that’s enough reason to invite her into our home?" I shot him a glare, arching a brow. "Really?"He smiled, that maddening, effortless kind that made it hard to stay mad. "Darling, Alice is on our side.""More like Alice wants to crawl onto your side of the bed," I muttered under my breath."What?" Sebastian choked, coughing on air as his warm, amused laugh bounced off the walls.I folded my arms. "Oh, don’t play dumb. You’ve seen the way she looks at you, like she’s already picked out your wedding tux and the honeymoon suite."He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Are you...jealous?""Me? Jealous?" I scoffed, straightening. "I don’t get jealous.

OliviaWe were curled up beneath a thick blanket that smelled faintly of cedarwood and laundry detergent, our bodies entangled like the firelight dancing across the walls. The freezing bite of New York's winter clawed at the windows, but inside, wrapped up in Sebastian's warmth and the golden hush of the flames, I felt like I was floating inside a snow globe that didn’t want to be shaken.The painting he gave me leaned silently in the corner, still and haunting. Beautiful, yes, but also strange. Like it was watching me. Like it remembered me before I remembered myself. I tried not to stare at it for too long.Sebastian pressed lazy, tender kisses to the nape of my neck, his lips hot against my cool skin, and I shivered at the feeling, slow, electric. The kind of shiver that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with being desired.“Can I ask you something?” I murmured, threading my fingers through his, resting them over the soft curve of my waist.“Mhm,” he breathed against