Todos os capítulos de The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice : Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

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

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

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

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

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