Vanished vows のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

There was a knock at the door the following day.A soft, almost apologetic knock. Like guilt had grown arms and come tapping, hoping I wouldn’t answer.I didn't move. I sat on the edge of the couch, knees hugged tight to my chest, the blanket around me like a shield. I had been waiting—not for him, but for courage. It hadn’t arrived.The door clicked open anyway.Stephen stepped in.The air shifted. The smell of alcohol trailed him like a shadow, sharp and acidic, crawling up my nose and stirring bile in my throat. He didn’t look drunk—not exactly—but his eyes were glazed, and the way he closed the door like it was too heavy for him told me everything I needed to know.“Hey baby,” he said, his voice soft and slurred at the edges. “How are you doing? How was your day? Did you try the clothes on? I’m sure they’ll look good on you.”He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. He didn’t wait for my reply—he never really waited for anything. He crossed the room in slow, calculated steps like

The phone vibrated against the white plastic table beside Rosy’s hospital bed, jolting her from the quiet daze she'd been suspended in. A message.Stephen: "There is an important project I have to go to for a few days. Leaving soon."She stared at the words for a beat too long, her heart simultaneously dropping and lifting. Relief floated through her like mist. She'd been searching for a reason to delay going back to the house. Back to him. And now she had one. A neat little escape wrapped in a vague message. She typed back, fingers slightly trembling.Rosy: "Don’t work too hard. Take care of yourself."She added a heart. Then deleted it.It had been a week since she'd been admitted, a week since her body screamed for rest and silence, and Stephen—her secret husband—had made no effort to visit. Not one call. Not one check-in.But wasn’t that always how it was?Their marriage was an arrangement shrouded in shadows. No wedding gown. No flowers. No family.No love.Stephen had never intr

Rosy entered the office in search of the North supermarket project files. Before entering, She pondered how she should greet Olivia. Seeing her picture on the screen that very day. Olivia was someone she knew well. She could recognise her. They were high school classmates, and Olivia was Stephen's First love while Rosy was just a one night stand he had a contract marriage with. Should she reminisce about their school days with Olivia? Or should she meet her rival with envy? It seemed that she didn't have a clear stance on either option. During high school, Rosy and Olivia didn't interact much. Although Rosy married Stephen legally, Olivia was actually his true love. Oh well, Let's pretend not to know each other!. She knocked on the door and heard a “Come in” before pushing it open. The spacious office didn't reveal Olivia’s figure, but Stephen was leaning over the large desk, reviving documents. He was exceptionally handsome, with facial features as if care

The bathroom was filled with steam, but there was no warmth. Only a suffocating heaviness that clung to Rosy’s skin, crawling into her lungs. She stood beneath the spray, her arms wrapped tightly around her trembling body, but the water couldn’t wash away the filth of what her life had become. Not the betrayal. Not the humiliation. Not the ache inside her chest that had become her constant companion.She pressed her forehead against the cold tiles, eyes squeezed shut. For a moment, she tried to imagine what it would feel like to disappear into the wall, to vanish completely from this world where she was nothing but a pawn in Stephen’s cruel game.Her lips parted, a broken whisper slipping out. “God, please… let me wake up from this nightmare.”But reality was relentless. And it came crashing through the door a moment later.The lock rattled, then slammed open so hard the frame shuddered.“Rosy!”Her heart stopped.He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. Stephen’s voice was ra

Stephen walked briskly into the doctor’s office, his face tight with tension. The events of the past few hours still weighed heavily on him—Rosy collapsing, the frantic rush to the hospital, Claire’s pale face as she hovered nervously around them. He felt like a man whose life was slowly crumbling, and yet, he had no choice but to keep his composure.The doctor, a middle-aged man with sharp, intelligent eyes behind his glasses, stood up as Stephen entered.“Mr. Stephen Johnson?” the doctor asked, glancing down at the file in his hands.“Yes,” Stephen said, his voice deep, clipped. “How is she?”The doctor motioned for him to sit. “Your wife is stable now. She fainted due to exhaustion, stress, and… well, because of her condition.”Stephen’s brow furrowed. “Her condition?”The doctor leaned forward slightly. “She’s pregnant. Around seven weeks.”Stephen froze, his mind spinning as the words echoed in the quiet office. Pregnant? Rosy? His heart thudded in his chest, not with excitement