Todos os capítulos de Her Daughter’s Lover: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

POV: ClaireThe morning light crept cautiously through the blinds, brushing across the floor like a timid intruder. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the turmoil that had claimed my mind since last night. My fingers absently traced the edge of the blanket, a nervous tic I didn’t even know I had. I couldn’t shake him. Ryan. Even now, the memory of his hands on me, the feel of his lips, the weight of his body pressed against mine in that stolen hotel room—it made my heart stutter and my cheeks flush with both shame and longing.I knew it was wrong. I had known it from the moment he’d walked into my apartment. I had known it every time I’d felt my pulse spike at the sight of him, every time a simple text from him made my stomach twist into knots. And yet… there was no resisting the pull. He had ignited something in me—a fire I had thought long extinguished. Desire. Guilt. Need. A strange, dangerous combination that left me trembling long after he left.The doo

POV: RyanThe mornings had begun to feel heavier, weighted with unspoken truths. I tried to focus on Sophie—her laughter, her warmth, the way her hand fit perfectly into mine—but every glance at Claire was a dagger through my self-control. I told myself to stop. I promised myself to stay loyal. And yet… my thoughts betrayed me, replaying that night over and over, the taste of her lips, the tremble of her body, the urgency that still lingered in my veins.Sophie had begun to notice it too—the subtle shift in my attention, the way my eyes lingered a fraction too long when Claire entered the room. At first, she smiled, thinking I was merely distracted. But as the days passed, her laughter became tinged with suspicion, her soft questions more probing:“Are you thinking about work?” she asked one evening as we prepared dinner together.I froze, spoon in hand. “No… why?”She tilted her head, studying me. “You’ve been… distant.”I swallowed. There was no excuse, no comfortable lie that would

POV: ClaireThe days that followed the discovery of the pregnancy were a haze of fear, guilt, and a strange, unspoken thrill. I tried to maintain normalcy, to pretend everything was ordinary, but every glance in the mirror reminded me that something had shifted. My body was betraying me, sending signs I couldn’t ignore—nausea that hit without warning, a sudden weariness that made simple tasks feel monumental, and a strange tightness around my midsection that my clothing could no longer conceal.At work, I forced myself to focus, but my mind drifted endlessly. Every conversation with colleagues felt like background noise, every mundane task heavy with unspoken tension. My heart would race whenever I thought about Ryan, about the night we had shared, about the life growing inside me. And yet, I could not let him know. Not yet. Not until I could figure out how to navigate this minefield without destroying everything.Mornings were the worst. The nausea came in waves, leaving me drained b

Clair’s Pov I shouldn’t have been nervous to see Ryan. But I was. I always was.There was something dangerous about him — something magnetic and cruel, something I should never have touched, never allowed, never lingered in… especially considering he wasn’t supposed to want me.He was married to my daughter.But that didn’t stop him. And God help me — it didn’t stop me.The sky was fading into the kind of evening where the air feels heavy with unfinished conversations. I held my phone tight in my hand, staring at Ryan’s last message.“Come alone. We need to talk.”No location emoji.No explanation.Just a command.A chill worked its way down my spine — the familiar mixture of anticipation and dread that I hated admitting I felt.I shoved the phone into my bag and walked faster.Ryan and I… we never meant for it to happen. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t plotted. It wasn’t some sick fantasy I nurtured — at least, that’s what I tell myself when guilt claws at me.It just happened.Like a

I barely slept that night. Sleep came in thin, brittle fragments — broken by flashes of memory, by nightmares of hands grabbing me, by whispers of Calloway’s voice echoing in my head.By morning, I felt hollow.A nurse brought me breakfast I couldn’t eat. Fruit, bread, tea. It all sat untouched. My mouth tasted like metal.Around noon, the door opened.I expected another nurse.Maybe Ryan again.But instead —“Mom?”Sophia.My daughter.My heart seized.She walked toward me, holding a bouquet of pale lilies. She looked… worried. And older than she should at her age.Behind her was Margaret — Ryan’s mother — upright, elegant, her grey hair pinned neatly. Her gaze was sharp as polished glass.Sophia set the flowers down gently beside me.“Oh my God, Mom… when Ryan told me you were in the hospital…” she exhaled shakily. “I didn’t fully understand my own thoughts — I only knew I needed to be here with you.”My throat tightened.Sophia.My child.The woman married to the man I should never