A Dirty Secret With My Best Friend’s Dad のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

~Sienna~ The lunch rush at is a blur of expensive suits and the low clinking of crystal, but I barely notice any of it. My focus is entirely on the man sitting across from me. Norman looks different today. He’s shed the heavy armor of the office, he’s not wearing his suit jacket, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his forearms, revealing the dark hair and the steady pulse at his wrists. He’s watching me eat with an intensity that makes my hands shake just a little as I hold my fork. It’s been a week since the accident, and while the physical pain has mostly faded into a dull hum, the emotional weight of being near him is becoming a mountain I don't know how to climb. "You're barely touching your salmon," Norman says, his voice a low vibration that cuts through the restaurant’s noise. "Does it taste like the hospital food? Because if it does, I’ll fire the chef myself." I let out a small, breathless laugh and finally take a bite. "No, it’s delicious. I’m just... I guess I’m still

~Sienna~I duck behind a large display of rocking chairs, my heart hammering so hard I’m sure he can hear it. I’m clutching the baby clothes to my chest like they’re a shield. "Will there be anything else today?" the clerk asks."Actually," Norman pauses. I can hear the rustle of his coat. "Show me those hand-knit blankets in the window. The white ones."No. No, no, no. Those blankets are right next to where I’m crouching.I see his polished black shoes move across the floor. He stops less than five feet away from me. I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. I can smell him—that scent of mint and expensive rain that I breathed in during those long nights in the hospital. It’s so close I could reach out and touch the hem of his trousers."They're beautiful, aren't they?" the clerk says. "Perfect for a christening or a first homecoming.""They look... soft," Norman says. There’s a strange, distant quality to his voice. "I remember when my daughter was born. Everything was so small. Yo

~Sienna~Nova nods, her eyes glassy. We get out of the car, and I lead her to the front door. My hand shakes as I turn the key. The moment the door swings open, the familiar sounds of home wash over us—the soft, constant thump-thump of a baby jumper and a high-pitched, delighted squeal from the living room.My mother appears in the hallway, wiping her hands on an apron. She stops dead when she sees Nova standing behind me. Her eyes dart to mine, wide with a silent question."It’s okay, Mom," I say, my voice thick. "She knows. Nova knows everything."My mother exhales a long, shaky breath and steps aside, her face softening into a look of pure pity and relief. Nova doesn’t wait for me to invite her in. She moves past me into the living room, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood before she stops at the open door way of the living room.I stand back, watching her.Noah is on his tummy, pushing himself up with surprisingly strong arms, his brow furrowed in concentration. Nyomi is sit

~Sienna~The lunch rush at the small restaurant three blocks from the office is a deafening. Hums of clinking silverware and chatter, but Elias and I sit in a secluded booth in the far corner, where the world feels pin-drop silent. I’ve spent so long guarding the truth like a physical weight in my chest that now, as I prepare to let it spill, my hands are trembling so hard I have to tuck them under the table.Elias watches me, his expression patient but etched with a deep, lingering concern. "Sienna," he says softly, "you’re shaking. Whatever it is, you don’t have to force it. I don’t mind you not telling me."My hands tremble more. His blind trust in me is just too strong. It’s the more reason why I can’t continue to keep I’m in the dark. I take a deep breath, the scent of toasted bread and coffee suddenly making me lightheaded. "I had an affair with him, Elias. Years ago, when I was just a junior assistant at Gray Stone Luxury Real Estate and Hospitality."Elias doesn't blink, he b

~Sienna~The silence of the third-floor waiting room is the kind that eats at your nerves, a thick, sterile quiet broken only by the soft squeak of a janitor’s cart somewhere in the distance. I sit on the edge of a hard plastic chair, my fingers digging into my palms so hard I can feel my pulse thrumming in my fingertips. Every time the double doors hiss open, my breath hitches, my heart performing a violent, rough dance against my ribs.Finally, the doors swing wide, and a man in pale blue scrubs emerges. I spring up so fast the room tilts for a second, my vision swimming with black spots."Family of Jane Davis?" he asks, pulling his mask down to his chin."I’m her daughter. Sienna," I say, my voice coming out in a breathless rush. "Please, tell me she’s okay."The doctor offers a small, tired smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it is enough to let the air back into my lungs. "She’s a very lucky woman, Sienna. The impact is significant, the car is definitely over the speed l