All Chapters of His Wife On Paper : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Eliora’s POVThe room felt unnervingly empty after the door clicked shut behind Margaret and Ezra. The ghost of my son’s laughter still seemed to vibrate against the sterile white walls, a cruel contrast to the heavy, suffocating silence that replaced it. I stared at the wood of the door, my pulse a frantic, visible thrum in the hollow of my throat. My hands remained cupped, still shaped as if they were holding him, my fingers twitching against the thin hospital blanket as if trying to catch the lingering warmth of his skin.Minutes crawled by like hours. I looked at Zoey, who had slumped into the plastic guest chair. Her head was buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the jagged, uneven breaths that follow a near-miss with catastrophe.Then, the door slid open again.I flinched, my heart nearly stopping, but it was Julian. He stepped inside with a quiet, predatory grace, sliding the door shut behind him with a soft click that felt like a gavel hitting a desk. He moved to

Eliora’s POVThe hospital room had become a gilded cage. I was walking better now, my body finally knitting itself back together after the wreckage of the crash. The doctors called it a "miraculous recovery," but to me, every step felt like a slow crawl toward a freedom I wasn't sure I’d ever truly have.Elijah was sitting in the armchair by the window. He was a constant, quiet presence, the only person who didn't look at me like I was a broken vase. He was scrolling through something on his phone, his face bathed in the soft glow of the screen."Where’s Zoey?" I asked, smoothing out the fabric of the light robe I wore over my hospital clothes. "She said she was coming by this morning."Elijah didn't look up immediately. He hesitated, a small frown touching his lips. It was a subtle thing, but I noticed it. "I’m sure she has a good reason for meeting Kian behind your back, Eli," he said, his voice low and casual, as if he were talking about the weather. "She’s probably just trying to

Eliora’s POVMidnight in a hospital is not silent. It is a symphony of artificial sounds—the rhythmic, mechanical sigh of the ventilation, the distant, muffled squeak of rubber soles on linoleum, and the constant, mocking beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor.I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling tiles. I had counted them three times already. Sixty-four full tiles, eight partial ones near the vent. They were white, speckled with grey, as cold and indifferent as the rest of this building. Every time I closed my eyes, the hallway scene replayed behind my eyelids. Kian’s face, inches from mine. The smell of cedar and winter. The way my body had hummed with a frantic, traitorous electricity.And then Zoey.The silence she had left behind was the loudest thing in the room. It felt like a phantom limb, a part of me that had been there for my entire life was suddenly gone, and I kept reaching for it, only to find nothing but cold air. My chest felt tight, a physical pressure centered

Eliora's POV "Mummy!"The high-pitched, melodic cry shattered the heavy silence of the penthouse foyer before the front door had even fully clicked shut behind us. I didn't even have time to steady my footing on the polished marble before a small, sturdy weight slammed into my knees."Ezra!" My voice broke, a jagged sob of relief tearing from my throat as I dropped to my knees, heedless of the sharp ache in my healing ribs.He was here. He was warm, he was real, and he smelled of baby shampoo and the lingering scent of the outdoors. I buried my face in his neck, my hands shaking as I gripped the back of his small t-shirt, pulling him so close I could feel the frantic, joyful rhythm of his little heart against mine. For weeks, I had lived in a world of white walls and beeping monitors, haunted by the terrifying 'what-ifs' of the crash. But holding him now, the phantom pain of my loss finally began to dull."I missed you, Mummy," Ezra whispered, pulling back just enough to frame my fac

Eliora's POV "Is Miss Zoey coming over? I will prepare a room for her if you’d like."Margaret’s voice was soft, barely a murmur as she straightened the hand-pressed linens in Ezra’s new nursery. She spoke with a casualness that assumed my life was still whole, that the people who were my pillars only a week ago were still standing.I swallowed, the back of my throat feeling like it was lined with glass. "Uh." I shifted my weight, my hand gripping the edge of the changing table for support. "Uh, no. No, she isn't. Zoey has a lot of things to take care of right now."The lie tasted like copper in my mouth. My chest physically ached at the mention of her name. Zoey, my best friend, the person who had held my hand through the darkest hours after the crash was now a casualty of the wall I was building. To bring her here was to bring Kian’s world into Elijah’s sanctuary, and I wasn't sure if Zoey would even look at me the same way after the stunt at the hospital.Margaret paused, a pillow