All Chapters of Flash to Forever:The Husband I Never Knew: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

The house was quiet when we returned , that kind of heavy, deliberate quiet that presses against your skin. Even the walls felt like they were waiting for something to break the silence.Adrian didn’t say a word. He just slipped off his cufflinks, murmured something about work, and disappeared into his study the moment we walked through the door.I told myself I didn’t care.Then I spent the next twenty minutes pacing the living room, pretending to scroll through my phone while my mind replayed the night on loop.The gala had left me wired, too much polite smiling, too many whispered speculations about the “new Mrs. Kingsley,” and then, as if the universe hadn’t mocked me enough, Noah appearing like a ghost from a chapter I’d long since closed.But mostly… it was Adrian.The way his hand had found the small of my back naturally, cameras flashed. The way his expression shifted when I’d said Mrs. Kingsley like the word had done something to him too.I finally gave up pretending to be

The hallway to the master bedroom had never felt longer. Or narrower. Or more dangerous.Because Adrian kept walking beside me, close enough that our arms brushed every few steps and every brush sent tiny sparks dancing up my spine.When we finally reached the room, we were greeted by…Chaos.Beautiful, expensive chaos.Ten tall boxes stacked like fashion skyscrapers.Adrian stared at them, deadpan.“This looks like you’re preparing to flee the country.”I crossed my arms. “It’s just clothes.”“That,” he said, pointing, “is not ‘just’ anything. That is a textile takeover.”I huffed. “Then don’t help.”He ignored that — of course — and peeled off his watch, setting it on the nightstand like he was preparing for battle.“Where do we start?” he asked.I blinked. “Seriously?”He looked at me, amused. “I said I would help. I’m many things, Elena, but I’m not unreliable.”Why did my heart melt at that?Embarrassing.Unpacking Begins… BadlyAdrian sliced open the first box with a precision

I told myself a lot of things that night.That I just needed space.That the tension from dinner would fade by morning.That the way his voice had hardened when he walked away hadn’t lodged itself somewhere in my mind.Lies. All of them.Sleep didn’t come easily. I tossed, turned, stared at the ceiling until the city lights outside blurred into something softer, lonelier. At some point past midnight, thirst finally drove me out of bed.Just water, I told myself.In and out. No Adrian.The hallway lights were dimmed, the house wrapped in that deep, late-night quiet that made every sound feel louder than it should be. My footsteps were soft against the floor as I padded toward the kitchen.I was almost there when I heard a quiet curse.I froze.The light in the kitchen was on, low and warm. Adrian stood by the counter, one hand braced against the marble, the other rubbing at the back of his neck. His tie was gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone. He looked… undone.Not the c

Sleep did not come easily that night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the painting again, the woman by the sea, her face turned away, forever just out of reach. And then Adrian’s voice layered over it, quiet and weighted.If you knew… you might not look at me the same.I lay on my side, staring at the faint outline of the city beyond the curtains, wondering what kind of truth could do that. What kind of past could make a man so careful with every step he took toward me.By morning, I had decided something dangerous.I wouldn’t push.But I wouldn’t look away either.Adrian was already at the breakfast table when I came down, reading something on his tablet. He looked up when he heard me, and for a split second, his expression softened, like he’d been waiting.“Good morning,” he said.“Morning.”It felt… easier than yesterday. Not light, exactly, but less brittle. Like we’d both silently agreed not to pretend nothing was wrong.Mrs. Patel set down breakfast and retreated discreetly.