Lahat ng Kabanata ng HIS CHUBBY OBSESSION : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 5

The hallway was too quiet.I stood frozen outside my husband’s office, my hand hovering over the doorknob of Charlotte’s bedroom. I’d only meant to tell Bruce that our daughter was finally asleep after two bedtime stories and three glasses of water. A simple goodnight. Nothing more.But the voices seeping through the crack in Bruce’s office door stopped me cold.“Five years, Val. Five fucking years of playing house with that cow, and it’s finally paying off.”My breath caught. Bruce’s voice — low, intimate, laced with cruel satisfaction. And Val… Valentina?My hand dropped from Charlotte’s doorknob. My feet moved on their own, carrying me closer to his office. I pressed myself against the wall, heart hammering so hard I was sure they could hear it downstairs.“You really think he’ll go through with it?” A woman’s voice. Smooth, confident. Definitely Valentina Martinez — my former high school friend. The one who’d been “so supportive” during the early days of our marriage. The one who

I didn’t sleep.I lay perfectly still beside Bruce, counting his breaths, waiting for the deep, even rhythm that meant he was fully unconscious. It took an hour. Maybe more. Time had lost all meaning since I’d overheard the truth.When I was certain he wouldn’t wake, I slipped from the bed and padded silently down the hallway to Charlotte’s room.My daughter slept sprawled across her twin bed, one arm flung over Mr. Hoppy, the stuffed rabbit she’d had since she was two. Her face was peaceful in sleep, innocent, unaware that her entire world was built on lies.I sank into the rocking chair beside the bed — the same chair where I’d nursed her as a baby, where I’d read countless bedtime stories, where I’d held her during nightmares and soothed her back to sleep.This room had been my sanctuary. The only place in this massive house where I felt like I mattered, where my presence was wanted.But it wasn’t mine. None of it was. The house belonged to Bruce, purchased with Spears money. The f

The safe house was small, isolated, and exactly the kind of place I never would have thought to look for — which I supposed was the point.Enzo had ridden for twenty minutes through increasingly rural roads until we arrived at a one-story house sitting on a few acres of land, surrounded by woods. No neighbors. No streetlights. Just darkness and the sound of crickets.He killed the engine, and the sudden silence was deafening.Charlotte had fallen asleep in the sidecar despite everything, exhaustion finally claiming her. I carefully lifted her, cradling her against my chest. Her small hand clutched Mr. Hoppy even in sleep.Enzo unlocked the door and flipped on a light. The interior was basic but clean — a worn couch, outdated appliances, a hallway leading to bedrooms.“It’s off the grid,” he said. “Nobody knows about this place except the club. Bedroom’s on the left, bathroom on the right. Food in the kitchen.”“It’s perfect,” I whispered. Anything that wasn’t Bruce’s house was perfect