Todos los capítulos de Désiré Me 2: Capítulo 131 - Capítulo 140

 AURÉLIEThe house is still asleep when I open my eyes. The pale dawn light glides over the stone walls and comes to caress the rumpled sheets, tracing a silver line on Lorenzo's bare shoulder. He is there, against me, his slow breath warming my neck, his heavy, warm leg thrown over mine in total abandon.I stay still, savoring this fragile moment where night still resists. Everything has seemed unreal since yesterday. The fire, the acrid smoke that clung to our fears, our stifled then liberated laughter, his raw, almost savage joy when I told him the news. Our child. The trembling in his hands as he placed them on my belly. Our future.My own hand descends slowly, traveling over the curve of my ribs, the valley of my waist, to rest on my still nearly flat belly. A gentle, deep warmth settles there, like an inner sun.I smile in the silence, and this simple movement makes my skin shiver against his.— You're already awake&

 LORENZOThe engine of my Maserati barely purrs in the driveway, a contained murmur against the white gravel. I left the villa barely an hour ago, and yet every meter that has taken me away from it has been a tearing. I left with the taste of her skin still on my tongue, with the echo of her murmurs against my neck, with the sacred image of my lips pressed to her belly, that sanctuary where our future sleeps. I had sworn. I shouldn't have moved. The world could have waited. But a file, forgotten in my office, a contract involving millions and lives… The life before, the life of duty and iron, seized me by the scruff of the neck. I promised to return before she fully woke.I push the heavy oak front door without a sound. An absurd haste beats in my chest. I am stealing these minutes. I bring them back to her as an offering. The house is silent, still saturated with the peace of our room. It is then that I hear them.Voices. They come from the

 LORENZOIt belongs to you too.These words are the spark that ignites the powder keg. They propel me out of the shadows. I can no longer stay there, a spectator to the collapse of my world. The storm roaring inside me demands an outlet, an impact point.I take two heavy steps forward and stand in the doorway, filling the opening with my silhouette.Two faces turn toward me.Twice the same face.Pale. Flooded with the same bright tears. Their eyes, so similar, are identical abysses of distress. It's a mirror nightmare, a doubled image of perdition.The shock in Aurélie's eyes is a tidal wave that pierces me and tears out my guts. She is no longer the woman of embers under the skin, of the promise whispered at dawn. She is no longer my wife. She is a stranger. A pillar of salt, broken from within, looking at me with mute horror. She sees me as the author of her ruin. As the enemy.And the other. The other woman.

 AURÉLIEThe days following the revelation are a long tunnel of remorse. It was I who asked for it. It was I, paralyzed by the fear of disappointing, of not being up to it, who begged my own sister to take my place in my husband's bed on our wedding night. I was afraid of intimacy, of my inexperience, of his intense gaze. I wanted to offer him an illusion of perfection, a night without a false note.I was wrong on all counts. I didn't disappoint Lorenzo, I betrayed the most fundamental trust. And I sent my sister in my place, like sending a sacrifice to the altar.The villa echoes with the silence I created. Lorenzo walks on eggshells around me. He sleeps in his study, out of respect, out of modesty, to give me space. But every time I meet his gaze, I don't see anger there. I see incomprehension, and a deep sadness. It's worse.He doesn't blame me for anything. He has nothing to blame me for. The fault is entirely mine. And yet, he is

BÉATRICENight has fallen over the estate, thick and silent. With each passing hour, the stone in my chest grows heavier. I look at my hands resting on my swollen belly—this belly that shelters life and seals misfortune.I no longer think of my own shame, my own distress. All my thoughts turn to Aurélie. To the suffering I helped create. She begged me, yes. But I was the elder. I was supposed to protect, not obey a madness. I let love cloud my judgment, and now we are both sinking.Lorenzo has been proper. Distant, but proper. It's worse. His courtesy is a constant reminder that I have no place anywhere. I am a tool that has been overused, a cumbersome secret that breathes.But it's not him I fear. It's Aurélie's silence. Her empty gaze when she catches sight of me from afar. I have become the mirror of her greatest mistake, and she can no longer bear me.I can no longer bear knowing it.Suddenly, the urge takes me, violent and irrepressible. I need to see her. I need to talk to her.