Semua Bab (Not) My Husband: Still The Father Of Our Children: Bab 41 - Bab 50

The knock on the bedroom door was soft at first. Barely a sound—just a faint tap, like a leaf brushing glass. Then again. A little firmer. A little faster.Ezra stirred, thick-limbed and sunk deep in the warmth still clinging to his skin from Sebastian's touch hours earlier. The scent of lavender still lingered faintly on the sheets—intimate, sweet, unmistakable. Beside him, Sebastian shifted with a low hum, brows creasing as his lashes fluttered open.Another knock. Ezra blinked awake.The door creaked open.Sebastian sat up sharply, tension drawing his spine taut. “Mia?”She stood framed in the dim hallway light, arms wrapped around her middle, swallowed in one of Ezra’s old band tees that clung damply to her legs. A sharp citrus note reached them—her scent, usually faint and clean, was suddenly bright and sharp. Wild. Unfiltered. The kind of primal shift that tugged at something deeper in both men, something instinc

The house was warm with weekend noise—the low hum of cartoons, the patter of socked feet over hardwood floors, the clink of mugs in the kitchen. Ezra stood at the sink, elbow-deep in suds, eyes flicking out the window toward the field, still damp from last night’s rain.Behind him, the twins raced through the living room chasing Mr. Biscuits, the dog’s tail a happy blur as he dodged and weaved between their legs. Mia sat curled up on the couch, one leg tucked under her, her eyes half on the television and half on the chaos. Every now and then, Mr. Biscuits would leap into her lap for safety. She looked better than she had Friday—less pale, her cheeks flushed with the faint return of energy. She even laughed when Camden shrieked about being “attacked” by the dog.But beneath it all, something was off.The air felt… crowded. Saturated.Ezra noticed it in the back of his throat first. A sweetness, thick and floral, curli

Dinner sat untouched on the table.The roast had gone cold. Gravy congealed in its dish. The twins had eaten already—bellies full, now tucked under blankets with the dog curled warm between them like a living bolster. From the hallway, the glow of cartoons flickered. Mia sat at the table, listlessly pushing rice around her plate. One ear trained toward the hallway. Listening. Waiting. For a footstep. A voice. A door.Something.Ezra searched everywhere.The pantry. The garage. The garden shed. Even the laundry room, which still smelled of lavender detergent and citrus wood polish—Sebastian’s scent, clinging to the air like a memory he didn’t want to face.The second living room had been tidied. Shoes lined by size. Socks paired. School bags unzipped and repacked. Tucked discreetly into Mia’s bag: a zip pouch with pads and wipes.Ezra stared at it.His chest tightened.He hadn’t thought of that.

The house was quiet when Ezra returned.His boots thudded dully on the hardwood as he toed them off in the foyer, hoodie damp with cold, shoulders hunched like he was trying to fold himself smaller. The hallway stretched before him, dim and long, each floorboard groaning like a held breath.Clara had gone to bed hours ago. The twins were no doubt tangled in blankets, sugared and dreaming. And Sebastian—Sebastian hadn’t texted. Not once. Ezra’s phone had stayed a cold, silent weight in his pocket all night.The guilt sat inside him like rot. Thick. Spreading. He hadn’t meant to let it get this bad, but he hadn’t known how to stop it. How to name the mess he’d made. The mess he was.Then he smelled it.Faint. Familiar. Lavender, curling down the hall like a thread meant to pull him in. His mouth went dry. His gut tightened.A soft light glowed beneath Sebastian’s bedroom door.Ezra stood there, staring. That scen

It was the first weekend in a long time where everything felt almost normal.Ezra had even promised to leave his phone behind—no buzzing, no work texts invading his mind. His sandalwood-and-spice scent mingled softly in the air, grounding the house like a calm tide.The twins had named every duck they planned to feed by the pond. Mia, on the other hand, had rolled her eyes and muttered something about “childish nonsense,” but she’d still packed a mystery novel and a blanket big enough for five.Even Sebastian was humming.He’d been up before sunrise, moving with quiet efficiency. His delicate fingers folded tiny triangular sandwiches, sliced fruit into neat star shapes, and laid out juice boxes next to a stack of matching sun hats. His small waist was hidden beneath a cozy sweatshirt, but Ezra caught the way his breath caught when the twins scrambled near.When Ezra stumbled into the kitchen, barefo