All Chapters of 60 Days to Get Married: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The boxes felt heavier than usual, as if each one contained not only clothes or books, but also the weight of everything we hadn't discussed. I opened one, revealing folded shirts, and tried to focus on the simple act of unpacking. Sebastian moved stealthily around the room, stacking plates in the kitchen, arranging picture frames against the wall. We didn't talk much, only making brief comments about where to put things, what to keep and what to throw away. But beneath those words, the silence lingered, reminding me of the shadows outside. Every creak of the floorboards made me glance out the window. Every sound from the hallway made my stomach churn. I kept telling myself that Ian would come, that the door would open soon, but the wait dragged on longer than I wanted. At one point, Sebastian handed me a book from one of the boxes. Our fingers brushed, and I felt the warmth of his earlier kiss again. I looked at him, but he didn't meet my g

Night fell like a heavy curtain over us. I felt completely lost, overwhelmed by the feelings I had just discovered about Sebastian and everything I felt about Roy and the wedding I was supposed to have. Anyway, Ian was the first to break the silence. “It’s time. The Clarks keep more than just money in their headquarters. If we want to understand what they’re planning, we have to go in.” Sebastian frowned, his voice heavy with tension. “It’s too risky. Their men patrol every corridor, and at this hour, they’re probably not even their legally hired men.” I stepped forward, anger and confusion still burning in my chest. “So what can we do today?” Ian smiled slightly, with that mixture of challenge and approval. “We have to observe. If they did this, they’re anxious; something must be happening today.” I nodded, and we stood for a moment analyzing what we could do. What we would do a

Sebastian's POV The silence in the car after I said that felt like a punishment, a punishment that three of us were enduring, each with a completely different perspective on the same situation. For a moment, I was distracted from the road ahead and looked at my hands, which were gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were almost completely white. An instinct I couldn't describe wanted me to turn to the passenger seat and look at her, but I didn't want to see her expression, I didn't want to have to face her right now. Finally, I parked outside Sofia's old apartment. Being here after what I knew, what had happened, and everything that was going through my head hit me with a harsh dose of reality I wasn't expecting. I remembered Sofia's words from tonight and how they had affected me: "Yes. There is someone I'm interested in." Damn it. What the hell is wrong with me? I got out to open

I stared at the computer screen and scrolled through different types of wedding venues, one after another, like a tedious ritual or as if I were simply window shopping. Gardens, ballrooms, beaches… each one more elegant than the last, each one promising perfection. But none of them felt real.My vision blurred as I scrolled through glossy photos of smiling couples, chandeliers, and endless rows of flowers. It was supposed to be exciting, but I only felt a sharp emptiness. The idea of ​​the wedding was there, knowing that there were only about twenty days left, less than a month, before I would finally have to be dressed in white at the venue, in front of someone who knew nothing of my pain, saying "I do" to a man who was convenient, when all I wanted to do right now was… Well…Sebastian’s voice echoed in my mind, sharp and furious. Ian’s warning followed, heavy and cold. And Roy’s wounded gaze lingered, reminding me that even joy comes with consequences. The ring around my neck felt h

Nightfall didn't make things any easier. Sebastian arrived at my apartment, speaking very little and with an unusual seriousness for him. He seemed to treat me with the same formality as a stranger. Having him here felt strangely reassuring yet oppressive. It was as if I wanted him here, but with everything that was happening, I really wanted him to be in another city, or another country. He sat down without asking anything, his gaze fixed on the floor, and for a moment I thought he would leave without saying a word. The silence dragged on, heavy, until I couldn't bear it any longer. "Sebastian," I said softly, "what are you doing here?" He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Because you haven't finished moving in yet and... and I want to help." Those words wounded me deeply. I wanted to ask him about the email, about the message, about the truth I was too afraid to face. I clenched my hands tight