All Chapters of The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

92 Chapters

Vivid Heart-pounding Memory

ASHLEY There was something about having company, I mean real company. Not the kind that came and went, but the kind that stayed. And Anton… Anton had always been that for me. If I was trouble, he was the one who stayed through it. We never really did anything alone back then. It had always been us. That was why it hurt when he left without a word. But hearing what he’d been through these past years… it made something shift. Maybe I hadn’t known him as well as I thought. Maybe I had only known the version of him he allowed me to see. Last night blurred together in fragments. We’d made up for lost time with a vengeance. We talked until our throats were raw, drank until the edges of the room blurred, and traded old high school stories like they were currency. It was fun, the kind of soul-deep fun that makes you forget the world exists. It was so fun, in fact, that I had absolutely no memory of how I’d ended up in my own bed. A yawn slipped out of me as I push

Did I Ruin Everything?

For the first time since marrying Sebastian Kingsley, I didn’t know if I had won… or made a mistake I couldn’t undo.SELENE The first thing I noticed wasn't the silence. It was the cold. My hand moved instinctively, searching for the warmth of Sebastian’s chest, but my fingers met nothing. Just the smooth, untouched surface of an empty pillow. My eyes snapped open. Morning light poured through the curtains, exposing every corner of the room. The space beside me was perfectly made, the duvet smoothed over as if he had never been there at all, as if the night before had been a cruel trick of my imagination. But the dull ache between my thighs refused to let me lie to myself. For a moment, I didn't move. I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, listening. Waiting for the sound of the shower or the clink of a coffee mug downstairs. Or maybe... just maybe footsteps. Anything. But the silence remained unbroken. And slowly, it began to close in

More Like Personal Defeat

JORDAN I adjusted my cuffs, the silence of the hallway punctuated only by the rhythmic click of my own shoes. It was supposed to be a routine morning, but as I rounded the corner toward the conference room, the sound of a familiar, high-pitched laugh stopped me cold. Ashley. She stood just outside the conference room, leaning slightly toward Anton, her eyes crinkled in a way I hadn't seen in weeks. There was something about her posture, something unguarded. Anton said something under his breath, and she laughed again, softer this time. His hand hovered at the small of her back as he guided her toward the door. The sight scraped against something sharp inside me. Just yesterday, she had laid her heart at my feet, breathless and trembling. I hadn't given her an answer. But I certainly hadn't expected her to find a replacement within twenty-four hours. My jaw set as I moved again, pushing past the moment and through the conference room doors like it hadn’t aff

Like I Had Already Lost

I should have known something about this morning was off. Maybe it started with the memory of kissing Anton. Maybe it started even before that. But whatever it was, it had followed me here—into this room, into this moment. ASHLEY I turned to Anton, expecting to find the same indignation burning through me. We were a team. We had built this pitch together. This was ours. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Selene. And there was a faint curve at the corner of his mouth. Barely there. Subtle enough that anyone else might have missed it. But I didn’t. Because in that moment, it looked like he had just been given exactly what he wanted. And Jordan, in his blind, jealous rage, had been the one to give them to him. I bit back everything I wanted to say. Not because I didn’t have anything to say. God, I had too much to say, but this wasn’t the place. Not with everyone watching. "Actually, Ashley is also a better choice," Selene said, her voice calm

Two-Seven-Two-Four

ASHLEY There was something dangerously intoxicating about the way Jordan kissed me. It always unraveled me faster than I wanted. The files slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud that neither of us paid attention to. My fingers curled weakly into the front of his shirt instead as his mouth moved against mine with slow, devastating precision. I couldn’t stop the helpless sounds escaping me. Every glide of his tongue against mine stripped away another layer of restraint, inch by inch, until I could barely remember why I’d been trying to resist him in the first place. I tore my mouth away with a shaky gasp, dragging in air that still tasted like him. "Jordan, wait—" "No," he rasped. The word barely left his mouth before he kissed me again. Harder this time. I tried to turn my head, desperate for a second to think, but his hand came up to my jaw, firm fingers holding me in place. His thumb pressed against my chin with unyielding pressur

The Same Table

SEBASTIAN "I married you because it was arranged. Don’t mistake that for affection. Keep your distance, or you’ll only hurt yourself." The numbers on the document blurred for the third time in ten minutes. I stared at the spreadsheet glowing on my monitor without actually seeing a single figure on it. Every row, every percentage, every projection dissolved the second another memory cut through my head. "You think being my wife makes you special? It doesn’t. Any woman could stand where you are standing. So stop looking at me like I’m supposed to feel something." My hand froze above the keyboard. Ever since I walked out of the house last night, the past had been stalking me. Every cruel word I had ever thrown at Selene kept resurfacing one after another, like my mind had suddenly decided I deserved to hear exactly what she had endured. And the more I remembered, the heavier something inside my chest became. Because now I could finally hear myself the way she must have

Maybe She Had Always Known

I thought the cruelest thing I would face that day was the memory of how I had treated my wife. I was wrong.SEBASTIAN "Sorry I’m late," she murmured as she slid gracefully into the seat that had held the image of my wife only seconds ago. She didn't reach for the menu. Didn't even glance at it. Her attention settled entirely on me, like I was the only thing worth studying in the room. "But then again," she added lightly, crossing one leg over the other, "you know I've always liked making an entrance." I lowered myself into my seat carefully, my pulse still uneven from the shock of seeing her."Have we... met before?" Ms. Sullivan laughed softly. The sound was melodic, polished, beautiful in a way that felt rehearsed. But it never reached her eyes. She leaned forward across the table, and the heavy scent of her perfume wrapped around me, thick enough to suffocate. "Met?" she repeated amusedly. "Darling, we did a lot more than meet." Her gaze swept over my

Which Version Of Me Was Real?

SEBASTIAN I used to think memory loss was the cruelest thing that could happen to a man. I was wrong. Because remembering slowly, piece by piece was worse. At least before, there had been ignorance. Now there was only horror. Horror at the possibility that the man Selene had fallen in love with didn’t even exist before the accident. That maybe the version of me she loved now had only been born after the old Sebastian Kingsley died on that highway. And the worst part was that I no longer knew which version of me was real. The man who had touched Selene last night like she was something sacred... or the man who had apparently planned to leave her the night he crashed his car. My fingers loosened around Irene’s phone before I finally dropped it back onto the table. "What do you want from me?" I asked quietly. Irene relaxed into her seat, crossing one leg over the other with maddening composure. "The same thing the real you has always wanted." "Was

My Body Didn't Care About My Rules

ASHLEY The clock struck eight. And instead of standing outside Jordan’s suite, I was standing in the middle of my living room, staring at the wall clock like it had personally betrayed me. I dragged in a slow breath and forced my eyes away from it. I’d told him I was done. Told him I wasn’t coming. And for once, I intended to keep my word. But somehow, throughout the entire evening, Jordan had remained lodged inside my head like a splinter I couldn’t dig out. While I ate dinner. While I mindlessly switched through television channels. While I sat curled on the couch eating snacks and pretending to care about the stupid game on my phone. My thoughts kept circling back to him. Was he actually waiting for me? The question alone made my stomach twist. I shook my head hard, folding my arms tightly across my chest as though I could physically hold myself together. "You said you wanted to end things, Ashley," I muttered to myself. "Stick to it." But

The Price Of Making Him Wait

ASHLEY "Take off your clothes, Ashley." The command hit me like ice water against bare skin. Yet somehow it sent heat rushing violently through my body at the exact same time. A part of me still stung from the way he’d pulled away when I tried to kiss him, but the raw authority in his voice left no room for argument. Jordan wasn’t asking. He was waiting. Slowly, I reached behind myself for the zipper at the small of my back, my fingers trembling slightly as I kept my eyes fixed on him. But Jordan had already turned away. He walked back toward the table near the window, giving me his back—a broad, controlled silhouette beneath the low light of the suite. Like he knew I'd obey him anyway. The thought irritated me almost as much as it affected me. I dragged the zipper down inch by inch. The soft sound seemed deafening in the silence. Jordan said nothing. He simply reached for the decanter instead, pouring whiskey into the glass with slow precision

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