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All Chapters of The abandoned wife and her secret son: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

45 Chapters

Chapter 31

Aria’s POV“Why are you stressing my wife?” Julian’s voice cut through the tension like a blade—low, controlled, but carrying an unmistakable edge of warning.“Your wife?” Johnson asked, disbelief dripping from every syllable. His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back in his chair as if physically recoiling from the claim.“You heard me right. She’s my woman.” Julian’s voice remained eerily calm, but I could hear the steel beneath it—a quiet control that made the air feel heavier, more dangerous.My fingers twisted in my lap beneath the table, nails digging into my palms. My heart hammered against my ribs. I wanted to disappear, to sink through the floor and escape this suffocating moment. The restaurant suddenly felt too bright, too exposed.Johnson fixed his gaze on me, and I felt pinned beneath it—his eyes filled with genuine concern. “Young lady, if you are experiencing any life threat or danger, please let me know.” He leaned forward, his hands moving closer to mine across the whi

Chapter 32

Julian POVThe dream always started the same way—with the weight of silence.I was seven again, standing in the doorway of my father’s study. The room smelled of aged leather and tobacco, rich mahogany bookshelves towering on either side like sentinels. Afternoon light slanted through the venetian blinds, casting prison-bar shadows across the Persian rug beneath my feet. My father sat behind his massive oak desk, fountain pen poised above a document, not bothering to look up as I approached.My small hands trembled as I held out my report card, the paper crinkling in my grip. The laminate floor felt cold even through my socks as I shifted my weight, waiting. When he finally took it from me, his fingers—broad and calloused despite his profession—barely touched mine. He scanned the grades with the same expression he wore when reviewing contracts: flat, analytical, unmoved.“B-plus in mathematics.” His voice was granite. “Third in your class.”“I studied really hard, Dad. I—”His palm hi

Chapter 33

Aria POVThe ray of sunlight from the bedroom window pierced through my eyelids. I groaned, squeezing them shut tighter before finally giving in. My hand fumbled across the small table beside the bed, searching for my phone. When I finally grabbed it and saw the time, my heart sank. 8:30 AM.Damn it.I was supposed to take my medication at 8:00. Thirty minutes late. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to will away the dull ache already forming behind them.Slowly, I pushed myself up to sit, my body protesting every movement. My gaze landed on the bottles across the room—three of them, lined up like soldiers on the dresser. Just looking at them made my stomach turn.A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.“Come in,” I said, my voice still rough with sleep.“Good morning, dear,” she said, her voice warm and honeyed, like she was trying to wrap me in comfort with just her tone. “I brought you breakfast.” She set the tray down on the table near the window, arranging everything just s

Chapter 34

Aria — POVI was stretched across my bed, back pressed against the headboard, knees drawn loosely to my chest, when Mrs. Margaret knocked twice and stepped inside.“Hi, Mrs. Cross,” she said, folding her hands with a warmth that was almost maternal. “Mr. Cross asked that we take very good care of you — so please, don’t hesitate. Whatever you want me to prepare or do for you, just say the word.”My face stayed still, the practiced blankness that had become second nature in this house.“I’m good for now. I’ll let you know when I want something to eat.”She nodded, gave a small smile, and left — pulling the door gently behind her as though afraid of disturbing the air.I exhaled and turned back to my phone.I’d been scrolling through an art page, the kind I always fell into when I needed somewhere quiet to put my mind. The image that stopped me was a flower painting — done entirely in deep, saturated red. Crimson at the center bleeding outward into a softer rose at the petals’ edges, eve

Chapter 35

Aria POVThe knock at my door was soft, but I still flinched at it.“Aria, you called me to come over.”Vanessa stepped inside, her presence filling the room like a breath of warm air. She was dressed in a caramel-coloured wrap dress that hugged her frame, her curls pinned half-up with a few loose coils framing her face. A gold chain caught the light at her throat. She looked effortlessly put-together — everything I was not right now.Her eyes swept over me, quick and sharp, taking in the dim living room, the curtains still drawn at noon, the untouched glass of water on the coffee table.“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice careful, gentle.I was sitting curled into the corner of the couch, knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around myself like I was trying to hold my own ribcage together.“I’m fine,” I said.My voice came out low and hollow, barely carrying across the room.Vanessa’s brow lifted. She sat down beside me, close enough that I could smell her perfume — something warm

Chapter 36

Aria POVThe house felt too quiet.It always did these days — that suffocating kind of quiet that settles when a marriage starts rotting from the inside. I sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched plate Margaret had set in front of me twenty minutes ago. The food had gone cold.“Mrs. Cross.”Margaret’s voice pulled me back. She stood at the edge of the table, hands clasped, eyes soft with concern. She was too professional to fully show.“Should I help you dish your food? I made your favorite.”“No. I don’t feel like eating.”She didn’t leave. That was Margaret — loyal, stubborn, warm in a way that could make you cry if you weren’t careful.“You need to eat, ma’am. You’ve barely touched anything for days now.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping gentler. “Health is wealth.”I almost laughed. Not because it was funny — nothing felt funny anymore — but because it was such a Margaret thing to say. Simple. Earnest. Real.“I’ll eat later,” I said, keeping my voice cool, steady.

Chapter 37

Aria POV“Mr. Cross,” Margaret called softly from behind me. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”I blinked, pulling my thoughts from wherever they’d drifted. “Of course. Yes.”“That’s good.” She clasped her hands together, a small satisfied look crossing her face. “And I also noticed you ate a little from the breakfast I served you. Not much, but at least it’s better than the past few days when you didn’t touch it at all.”I gave her a small smile. It was the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes but felt like the least I could offer. “Thank you, Margaret.”My phone buzzed against the table.A text from the doctor. I stared at the screen for a second before reading it — one of my mother’s surgeries had been scheduled. Three days from now.My chest tightened. It was a strange feeling, the kind that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. Fear wrapped itself around hope, and hope kept trying to breathe through it. The surgery. The one that could possibly wake my mother from the coma she h

Chapter 38

Aria POV“Aria.”His voice was calm and low — the kind that didn’t need to rise to be heard. Measured, like someone who had learned a long time ago that steady words carried further than loud ones.The more I looked at him, the stronger the feeling grew — that quiet, nagging pull of familiarity you get when a face belongs somewhere in your memory but refuses to sit still long enough for you to place it. I knew him from somewhere. I was almost certain of it.“Do I know you?” I asked.“We’ve met before,” he said. “Not too long ago, actually. A few days.”I stood there, genuinely trying. His face, the way he held himself, the particular ease in his voice — it was all tugging at something just out of reach.He must have seen it on my face, because a faint trace of amusement crossed his expression.“At a restaurant. Downtown.”And just like that, it clicked.The man at the restaurant. The one whose presence I had registered without fully registering — composed, unhurried, quietly hard to i

Chapter 39

Julian POVThe evening light inside Selene’s apartment was soft and amber — warm in a way that felt rehearsed, like a stage set. Candles on the windowsill. A throw blanket folded perfectly on the armrest. She had called me over, said she needed to tell me something important. So I came.She sat across from me on the couch, her hands folded in her lap, eyes downcast. The room smelled faintly of lavender and something older underneath — stale air that no amount of candles could fix.“I just don’t want to bother you with it,” Selene said softly. Her voice was barely a breath, almost a whisper, like she was testing the weight of each word before releasing it. “I feel like I should carry my burden myself.”I held the medical report in my hands. Three pages. I had read every line twice. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, compounded by Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy — a condition the doctor had labeled Secondary CTE-Adjacent Syndrome, traced back to repeated psychological trauma from a violen

Chapter 40

Aria POVThe room was quiet except for the occasional rustle of pages.I was curled up against my headboard, legs tucked beneath me, a half-eaten packet of biscuits on the nightstand beside a cold cup of tea I kept forgetting to drink. The novel in my hands — The Space Between Heartbeats — had swallowed me whole for the better part of the evening. It was one of those stories that hurt in a beautiful way: a woman waiting for a man who didn’t know how to stay, loving him in the cracks of every ordinary moment. The kind of love that left marks. I had dog-eared nearly every other page.I turned to a passage I’d read twice already. She didn’t leave because she stopped loving him. She left because she loved herself just enough to know she deserved more than almost. I stared at the words for a long moment before closing the book and setting it face-down on the sheets.A notification lit up my screen.I swiped down without thinking, expecting something meaningless — a promotional email, a soc

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