All Chapters of Fifteen Years of Craving The Wrong Love : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Lyssa POV Later in the day, Anita and I visit some old friends the following day, and the city feels louder than usual, more busy than the rest of the previous days in New York. “You ready?” Anita asks, locking her car and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Because I’m about to brag about you, my future polyglot” She teases me and I smile, her words, lifting the worries in my mind. I snort. “Please don’t. I’m just tutoring languages.” “Just?” She stops in front of me, eyes wide with excitement. “You will be speaking multiple languages soon Lyssa. This is a career lane, not a hobby.” “Okay, marketing manager,” I tease, adjusting my scarf. “Lead the way.” We step into the small café where two of her former colleagues are waiting. It smells like espresso and cinnamon, and for a second, my shoulders feel relaxed. “Guys,” Anita announces the moment we reach the table. “Meet Lyssa. Linguistic tutor.” What? I’m not a tutor yet, I’m still trying to master these languages. I blink

Zeta POV My best friend, Roland pours another glass of wine and reads the new contents of the divorce conditions, his eyes moving slowly. He leans back in the leather chair across from my desk. Roland hasn't been around for a while now. He’s been busy with some law cases these days but he finally makes time to meet me. “Zeta,” he mutters, flipping a page. “You didn’t just revise this. You practically rewrote the entire thing. What’s going on? I stay standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in my pocket, the other holding my untouched drink. The city stretches below me. “I told you,” I say calmly. “The previous copy is useless now. My father destroyed it. We start clean.” Roland glances up at me. “Yeah, you told me that part. Still insane.” “My father…” I say flatly. “A man who thinks he still runs my life.” Roland snorts. “He doesn’t think. He knows he still influences it.” I don’t respond. He goes back to reading, turning another page slowly, tapping the paper wit

Zeta POV I have been trying to get rid of Lyssa out of my life, but not in the negative way… but what if I was doing it the wrong way? What if Isabella had never been for me and was just a distraction to my happy life? The thought presses hard against my chest, like something sharp wedged between my ribs. I stare straight ahead, but I’m not really seeing the road anymore. My mind keeps replaying Marcus’s voice from earlier—calm, steady, annoyingly honest. I turn my head toward him then. “Marcus,” I say, my tone quiet but tight underneath. “I’m sorry if my words offend you earlier.” I say. He doesn’t look at me immediately. His hands stay steady on the steering wheel, his posture relaxed like always. “I wasn’t trying to offend you,” he says after a moment, calm as ever. “I was trying to make you see clearly.” “I don’t need clarity from you,” I reply flatly. He exhales softly. “You asked me a long time ago to always tell you the truth. Even when you don’t like it.” I don’t re

Zeta POV I made my way to the room she had moved into earlier after separating from our bedroom. The door was slightly open, and I paused at the entrance before pushing it gently. The room looked neat—too neat. The bed was perfectly made, the curtains drawn halfway to let in soft evening light, and her suitcase sat closed in the corner beside the wardrobe. It didn’t look like someone preparing to leave. It looked like someone settling in. My jaw tightened a little at that thought. Well… it’s good we are in different rooms now, I reminded myself. It was safer this way. For both of us until this whole thing is finally done for. Her room was off-limits until she signed the divorce papers again. I stepped inside anyway, my eyes scanning the shelves, the dresser, the small desk where her laptop sat open. I didn’t even know what I was pretending to look for. Maybe I just needed an excuse to stand in her space for a moment. To feel close to her without actually being close. Just then

Lyssa POV I hate the longing in his eyes as he speaks to me and tells me he’s sorry and wants us as happy as we used to be as siblings. It’s hurtful to realize that I had returned home to a man who had moved on from me. The words sit between us like something fragile and dangerous at the same time. “I don’t want us to keep hurting each other like this,” Zeta says quietly. His voice is low, steady, the way it always is when he’s trying to keep control of a situation. “We used to be… comfortable. Safe. I want that again. Even if it’s just as family.” Family… The word scrapes against my chest. I don’t let it show. I refuse to let him see even a little sadness in me. Instead of confronting him like I normally would, instead of asking why he sounds like he’s already accepted that we are over, I smile and I play the cool sister. “That’s good,” I say lightly, folding my arms loosely. “Peace is better than fighting all the time.” His brows pull together slightly, like he’s unsure whet