Stepdaughter by Day, Wife by Night のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

LENAThe next morning, I thought maybe I’d dreamed it all. The knock, the tension, his words still echoing like a curse in my mind. I convinced myself that if I got up, showered, and walked downstairs like a normal daughter, maybe the universe would reset itself and I could breathe again.For about twenty minutes, it worked. The house was quiet, sunlight streamed through the windows, and I sat at the breakfast table scrolling aimlessly on my phone while eating cereal. My mom had already left for errands, and Roman’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Perfect.I could pretend. I could breathe.Until the doorbell rang.At first, I thought it was a delivery for Mom, some online shopping she’d forgotten to mention. I padded across the tile floor, opened the door, and found a courier standing there with a clipboard.“Package for Lena Carter,” he said.My stomach dipped. “That’s me.”He

LENAI don’t know how I ended up here.One moment I was promising myself that I would keep my distance, that the kiss in the living room would be the first and last slip of control. The next, I was pacing outside his office door like a lunatic, my hands clammy, my heart beating in my throat.I told myself it was about closure, about drawing a line. I told myself I needed to confront him again, to make him understand that whatever spark he thought existed between us couldn’t continue.But deep down, I knew the truth.I wasn’t here to say no.I pushed the door open without knocking, like I had some kind of authority, and found him behind his desk. Papers were spread out in neat stacks, his laptop open, a pen twirling carelessly between his fingers.He looked up slowly, as if he’d been expecting me. His mouth curved the way it always did when he thought he had the upper hand. “Lena.”The sound of my name from his lips sent a shiver down my spine. “We need to talk.”“Do we?” His eyes dark

LENAThe door opened wider, but to my relief it wasn’t my mom standing there. It was one of the staff—Mrs. Alden, the housekeeper who had been with us for years. She blinked, clearly surprised to find me pressed against the door like a trapped mouse.“Sorry, dear,” she said kindly, holding a stack of towels. “Didn’t know you were in here.”I exhaled shakily, forcing a smile. “No problem, Mrs. Alden.”She gave me a curious glance, then turned toward Roman. “Do you want these in the guest rooms or the hall closet?”“Hall closet is fine,” Roman answered smoothly, as though nothing strange had happened. His voice was so steady, so calm, it was infuriating.She nodded, her eyes landing on me again for a beat longer than necessary before she left, pulling the door shut behind her.The moment it clicked closed, I spun on Roman. “That was way too close.”He tilted his head, studying me with that maddening calm. “Relax. She didn’t suspect a thing.”“Relax?” I nearly laughed, except it came out

LENAI couldn’t sleep.The clock on my nightstand glowed past midnight, its digits mocking me with every slow second. I’d changed into pajamas, crawled under the sheets, buried my head under a pillow, but none of it worked. My mind kept circling back to dinner—the way Roman’s leg brushed mine under the table, the deliberate burn in his gaze, the way my mom had sat between us smiling like nothing was happening.Nothing was happening. That was the problem. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was that something was happening, and I couldn’t stop it.Frustrated, I kicked off the sheets, slipped into shorts and a tank top, and padded barefoot out of my room. The house was silent, only the faint hum of the fridge and the distant chirp of crickets outside. I needed air. I needed space.The pool shimmered in the backyard, moonlight rippling over the surface like silver paint. The water looked cool and inviting, a sharp contrast to the restless heat clinging to my skin.Without thinking, I slipped ou

LENAThe little white stick on the counter stared back at me like it held my entire future inside it.I paced the bathroom, chewing on my thumbnail until it hurt. The box said to wait three minutes, but it felt like three hours had already crawled by. My stomach churned, my chest tight.It couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t.I tried to remember the details—what happened that night in Vegas. The blurred lights, the heat of the club, Roman’s mouth against mine, the way I’d woken up tangled in sheets that weren’t mine. We’d laughed, kissed, and… my pulse raced.I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memories to come into sharper focus. But they flickered like broken film.And now here I was, standing barefoot in my mom’s bathroom, staring at a pregnancy test.I leaned against the counter, pressing a hand over my twisting stomach. I’d been nauseous for days, dizzy in the mornings. I told myself it was stress. It had to be stress. The lies I’d been telling, the secrets I’d been keeping, the w