Chapter 61

Lyara:Three weeks since Drake’s arrest, and the air inside Ashworth Heights didn’t taste like panic anymore.I noticed it first on the production floor at 8:17 in the morning. I had come in early out of habit, the way you check a locked door three times even when you know it’s fine. The machines were humming. No one was running. No one had that tight, hunted look in their eyes. In the corner near the coffee station, two girls from accounting were laughing about something, and their laughter didn’t stop the second I walked by. That used to happen. My footsteps would hit the tile and every conversation would go quiet, like I was a storm warning.“Morning, Ms. Lyara.” James from line 2 said. He was holding a thermos in one hand and a wrench in the other. He smiled. Not the small, careful smile we used to trade. A real one, with lines at the corners of his eyes. “Morning, James,” I replied.I walked the length of the floor slowly. Departments were talking to each other instead of send

Chapter 62

Adrian:I hate the executive dining room.The tables are too big, the chairs are too quiet, and the silence costs something to sit in. It’s the kind of silence where you can hear your own mistakes echo back at you.So at 7:28 AM I was in the workers’ cafeteria at Facility A with a tray that had eggs, burnt toast, and coffee that tasted like it had been fighting all night. I slid into an empty spot at a long table between Marco from maintenance and Mrs. Alvarez, who has worked the line since I was in college and still calls me “mijo” when she thinks no one is listening.Marco looked at my tray, then at me. “You lost?” He asked, stirring sugar into his coffee. I took a bite of toast. It was dry. “Nope. Just hungry.” Mrs. Alvarez patted my arm. “Good. The food upstairs is for people who don’t want to talk to anyone.”For a few minutes it was just the sound of forks and the low hum of the morning shift starting up. Then Ben from line 3 leaned across the table. “You know,” he said,

Chapter 63

Claire:The knock came at 6:14 PM. I knew who it was before I even looked through the peephole. No one else knocked like that. Three short raps, then a pause, then one more. Like he was already expecting me to open the door before he finished, which I used to, but definitely not anymore.I stood in my kitchen with a mug of tea going cold in my hands and stared at the door for a long time. My apartment was quiet. The TV wasn’t on. The laundry was folded. For the first time in a while, there was nothing of his in this space. I opened the door anyway. Father stood in the hallway with a bouquet of white lilies and a bottle of wine and that smile; the one he used when he wanted something. “Claire,” he said, stepping in before I invited him. “Can we talk?”He didn’t wait for an answer. He walked to my small dining table and set the flowers down. He set the wine down next to them. He looked around like he was appraising the place. “It’s nice,” he said. “Small. But nice.” “Why are

All Chapters of The Wife He Couldn't Erase : Chapter 61 - Chapter 63

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63