Semua Bab (Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children: Bab 31 - Bab 40

The silence the next morning was a different kind of cruel.It clung to Sebastian like a second skin—cloying, heavy, damp with what hadn’t been said. He moved through the kitchen on autopilot, his scent muted under the artificial brightness of citrus dish soap and syrup. The twins were a blur of sound and motion, but even their youthful Alpha energy didn’t stir him the way it usually did.He poured juice, flipped pancakes, nodded when Camden demanded sprinkles. He laughed at Caleb’s knock-knock joke like he meant it. But his smile didn’t reach his eyes.He didn’t even notice Ezra wasn’t there until Mia muttered, voice flat: “He left early again.”Sebastian blinked. The absence slammed into him. No sandalwood. No spice. No warmth hovering behind him as he cooked. No possessive hand on his waist.Just air. Stale, scentless air.He cleared the plates before the boys had finished eating, letting the clatter of dishes cover the sound of his own breath hitching. He could smell his own lave

By the time the rain eased into a soft drizzle, the sky bruised with that post-storm gold, Sebastian was bent over the dining table—palms flat on the wood, thighs shaking, lavender slick in the air like crushed petals.Ezra stood behind him, one hand locked possessively around his hip, the other splayed between Sebastian’s shoulder blades. His grip was firm, reverent. Like he was bracing something fragile he didn’t know how to hold without breaking. Something he wanted to own.Sebastian kept glancing toward the stairs, his eyes half-lidded, unfocused, pupils blown wide. “Ezra—fuck—they’re gonna wake up—”Ezra didn’t stop. His mouth was hot against the curve of Sebastian’s neck, teeth grazing over skin that tasted like salt and lavender. “I know,” he breathed, voice rough, reverent. His hand tightened at Sebastian’s waist, guiding him back into place. “Be quick for me. Just one more, baby. Just one more.”Sebastian’s head lolled, curls sticking to his damp forehead. His Omega scent ha

Sebastian started sleeping in his own room again.The door didn’t slam. It clicked. Soft. Deliberate. Ezra heard it every time—through the walls, through his chest. Like the house exhaling. Like something sacred locking itself away.Still, Sebastian made the lunchboxes. He folded Ezra’s T-shirts neatly from the dryer, tucked them with the same precision as always. He hummed softly while slicing strawberries, lavender curling through the kitchen with every movement. His scent clung to the couch cushions, the laundry room, the soft spots on the stairs where he always stepped. It wrapped around Ezra’s pillow even though he no longer slept there.Mia’s socks were still rolled like sushi. The twins still found their vitamins tucked beneath their pancakes. Sebastian’s rhythm never faltered. His presence pulsed through the house, even when he wasn’t in the room.Ezra noticed everything.The absence of that warm Omega curl beside him at night. The hallway air colder without Sebastian brush

Sebastian rose. Slow. Purposeful. The faintest hint of lavender wafted around him, soft and intoxicating, wrapping Ezra’s senses before Sebastian even touched the dryer. He turned it off, the quiet hum cutting out, leaving only the scent and the silence.His shorts slipped to the floor in one graceful motion, the fabric whispering against the wood. He climbed onto the machine with the same calm certainty he used when soothing a child mid-meltdown—only now, his fingers trembled slightly as they braced the edge. Legs parted openly, unashamed, the scent of lavender growing stronger, warmer, sinking deep into Ezra’s skin, unspooling something raw and unfamiliar.Ezra stood between them, sweatpants already pooled at his ankles, but it was the sharp, spicy undercurrent of his own sandalwood and spice scent mixing with Sebastian’s gentle lavender that set the air electric.Sebastian reached for him—not the waist,

Ezra's hand slid to the small of his back, thumb pressing slow circles into soft cotton.Sebastian didn’t look at him.“I’m mad,” Sebastian said. “Not just at Clara. At you.”“I know.”“I feel like I’m holding all of this together while you get to come in and play hero.”Ezra rested his forehead against Sebastian’s temple. “I’m not playing anything. I’m fumbling through it just like you.”“You’re not the one getting hit.”Ezra closed his eyes. “You’re right.”His hand came up, fingers grazing Sebastian’s cheek, just under the red mark that had already started to fade.“I should’ve stopped her at the door,” Ezra said. “I should have. I didn’t—and that’s on me.”Silence stretched between them like a held breath.Sebastian still hadn’t looked at him.But Ezra didn’t let go.“You called me baby,” Sebastian said finally, voice brittle.Ezra’s voice dropped to a wh