บททั้งหมดของ My Husband's Best Friend Is Obsessed With Me : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

NADIADays slip into weeks, and Felix’s late nights and indifference stop hitting me as sharply as they used to. The silence in the house feels less like punishment and more like routine.I keep myself busy, clearing out the basement, scrubbing dust from the walls, dragging down an old desk and chair until it resembles a small home office.I even carved out a corner for Rex, the German Shepherd Laura insisted I take so I wouldn’t feel so alone. He settles into the space easily, his steady presence filling the gaps Felix leaves behind.One of my old sewing machines rests in the corner, the metal dulled but reliable. My sketches are pinned neatly across the wall, and a few finished pieces hang beside them, brightening the basement with their color.On the table, fabric is stacked in careful piles, waiting to be cut and stitched. The space feels lived-in already, steady and comforting, like I’ve finally carved out a corner that belongs to me.A vibration from the desk snaps me out of my

NADIA“I thought you said you didn’t exchange any personal information with your one-night stand?” Laura’s voice bursts through the speaker, loud enough to make me wince. A beat later, a giggle follows.I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “I don’t think the flowers are from him, Laura. I don’t even know the guy.”“What about him? Does he know you?”I hesitate, turning her question over. Know me? Hardly. “I doubt it. We bumped into each other in the parking lot about three weeks ago and then again at the party. Total coincidence.”“Methinks it wasn’t,” she says, dragging out the word in that annoying, singsong tone she knows I hate.I frown, pacing toward the counter where the flowers sit, fresh lilies and white roses tied with a silk ribbon. “So what are you saying? That I have a stalker?”There’s a long silence. For a second, I think she’s hung up, but then I catch the faint rustle of movement, footsteps, maybe.“Laura we can talk later if you’re busy,” I offer, half-expecti

NADIAI have a hundred and one reasons to believe this man has been stalking me, but then again, his story sounds so convincing. And the figure I spotted in the car earlier had on a black shirt and a white face cap.Right now, I’m having an out-of-body experience, the kind where I want to feel something again, something reckless, something selfishly mine.But the fact that I’m choosing… scratch that, my body is choosing the same man makes me both nervous and bold.Maybe it’s the way he looks at me, the way his touch lingers as though he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go. Or maybe it’s the quiet things, how he sometimes whispers something under his breath, words so low they blur into the sound of his breathing. And every time, my heart stumbles because I swear he says my name in that deep, rough voice of his.“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asks, his tongue darting out to tease my lips.A quiet laugh escapes me before I can stop it. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, h

NADIAAt exactly six o’clock, Felix and I ring the doorbell to his parents’ house. I silently cross my fingers, praying that Maria, their housekeeper, is the one who answers.Maria is quiet, blissfully so, and won’t feel the need to fill every second with polite chatter. With her, I could just smile, nod, and coast through the evening, pretending everything between Felix and me is still perfect.But, of course, it’s Beatrice who swings open the door instead. Her face lights up the second she sees us. Before I can say a word, she pulls me into one of her signature hugs, tight, warm, and impossibly long while sighing as if she’s greeting a long-lost daughter.“My God, you look good! You’re practically glowing!” she exclaims, pulling back to study my face with motherly pride.I summon a smile, remembering the agreement Felix and I made on the drive here, keep up appearances, stay affectionate, and play the part. So I toss him a teasing wink and let out a light, practised giggle.“Felix h

NADIAThe look on his face guts me. Shock. Hurt. It's a kind of disbelief that makes my stomach twist.For a second, I forget how to breathe. Regret rushes in before I can stop it, burning through every inch of me.I want to reach out, to take it back, to erase the words hanging between us like smoke. But I don’t move. I just stand there, watching him.His jaw tightens, and the silence stretches until it feels like it might split me open. I wish there was a way to fix this. Some magic phrases to make him see I can't help it, that I don't want this to end. Why can’t anything ever just be easy? Why does something real and good always have to hurt first?A car pulls up beside us, headlights washing over the curb in a blinding sweep. The doors burst open, and a small group tumbles out, laughing, singing off-key, one of them strumming a guitar like it’s some wild anthem. Their joy fills the night, loud and careless.Instinct kicks in. I shift slightly, ready to put some space between us i