The Torn Vows のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

My words dropped like stones in still water, rippling out until the whole room felt suffocated.Gabriel’s throat tightened. Choose? How could he choose when half his life was a blank canvas and the other half was smeared with contradictions? His pulse hammered in his ears.Emily’s smile blossomed, slow and deliberate, like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. She stepped into the silence, her voice syrupy-sweet. “Yes, Gabriel. Tell her the truth. Tell her where your heart really is.”My eyes never left him. They burnt—not pleading, not begging. Demanding. Daring him to see her, remember her, trust her.Gabriel’s chest rose and fell, his mind spinning. I was his wife, his anchor. But Emily—Emily’s voice, Emily’s presence—dug at something buried in the fog of his memory. A whisper. A fragment. Was it real? Or just her?His lips parted, but nothing came out.Emily tilted her head, watching him struggle, savouring it. “See, Eve? He doesn’t even have to answer. His silence says everyt

My hand hovered over the bannister, my gaze darting between the staircase leading up to Gabriel and the front door that separated me from the night.Wake him? Tell him?My throat tightened at the memory of his face earlier—suspicion carved into every line, his voice hard as steel when he’d demanded proof. Proof I didn’t have. Proof Emily had manufactured.If I shook him awake now with nothing but cryptic texts and my paranoia about shadows, what would he see? A wife unravelling? A liability?My chest constricted. No. I couldn’t risk it. Not when Emily was already poisoning the air between them.The phone buzzed again, as if mocking my hesitation.You’re stronger than he remembers. But not strong enough alone.My thumb hovered above the screen, trembling. Who are you? I typed again, desperation raw in my fingertips.Three dots appeared. Stopped. Appeared again.And then, finally—You’ll know soon.My pulse thudded, each beat sharper than the last. I wanted to throw the phone across the

“Eve?”Gabriel’s voice was closer now—rough, heavy with sleep, but edged with suspicion.I froze by the doorway, my hand still resting against the back door. The house felt too quiet. Too exposed.“I—” My throat tightened. “I couldn’t sleep.”Gabriel descended the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing, the other buried in his pocket. His white T-shirt clung to his shoulders, his eyes catching the faint glow of the kitchen light.“You couldn’t sleep,” he repeated, his tone calm but flat—too calm. “So you decided to go outside?”I forced a shaky smile. “I needed air. That’s all.”He studied me, eyes sweeping from my robe to my bare feet to the faint tremor in my hand. “Air.” His gaze lingered on the door behind me. “At two in the morning.”My pulse thundered. He wasn’t yelling. That was worse. Gabriel only got quiet when he was angry.Or suspicious.I stepped forward, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’re overreacting. I just needed to think. About everything.”He didn’t move. Didn’t

For a moment, Gabriel couldn’t breathe.Her words hung there — soft, poisonous — echoing in his mind long after the sound died.You told me once that she’d never forgive you if she knew what you did before the crash.He stared at Emily, searching her face for a lie. But her expression was unreadable — too calm, too sure.“What did I tell you?” His voice came out low and rough, like gravel.She tilted her head, lashes lowering. “You don’t remember, do you?”“Don’t play games with me.”“I’m not.” She took a step closer, her voice gentler now, almost pitying. “You were drunk. Angry. The night it happened. You said things… things I shouldn’t repeat. About Eve. About what you’d done to her.”He felt it — a flash. Not a memory, not exactly, but something close.A scream.A door slamming.Rain against glass.Then it was gone, slipping through his mind like smoke.“What did I do?” he asked, barely recognising his own voice.Emily smiled — slow, sad, perfect. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t re

The door clicked shut behind me and Sebastian.Silence spilt into the apartment — a strange, heavy quiet that pressed into every corner. Gabriel didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at the black screen of his phone, its reflection fractured across the glass table.Emily watched him carefully, her posture soft but deliberate — the perfect balance between concern and control.“She’s good,” she said finally, her voice a whisper. “I’ll give her that.”Gabriel didn’t look up. “What did you do, Emily?”Her lashes lowered. “I’m protecting what’s mine.”“What did you do?” His tone sharpened, brittle as glass.She tilted her head, studying him — the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand twitched against the table. “You think I faked that? That I have time to… what, hire an editor, stage a film crew?” Her voice cracked slightly, perfectly timed. “You really think I’d go that far?”He didn’t answer. The silence said enough.Emily took a slow step closer, her heels silent on the polishe