Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound to my Ex husband’s uncle: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

I wake before the alarm. The burn on the left side of my neck and shoulder has settled into its usual deep, grinding ache, worse in the mornings when the skin has stiffened overnight. I sit up slowly, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and walk to the bathroom. In the mirror the bandages look slightly yellowed at the edges. I peel them away with careful fingers, clean the area the way the discharge nurse showed me, and reapply the ointment. The sting is sharp and immediate. I breathe through it, then cover the wound with fresh gauze and secure it.Back in the bedroom I pull the printed engagement letter and the initial divorce forms from the folder on the nightstand. I read every page again even though I already know what they say. The language is dry and precise—grounds, temporary orders, disclosure, service. My name and Ethan’s sit side by side at the top of the first form. Seeing them there makes the decision feel heavier than it did when it was only an underlined sentence in

I wake before the alarm. The burn on the left side of my neck and shoulder has settled into its usual deep, grinding ache, worse in the mornings when the skin has stiffened overnight. I sit up slowly, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and walk to the bathroom. In the mirror the bandages look slightly yellowed at the edges. I peel them away with careful fingers, clean the area the way the discharge nurse showed me, and reapply the ointment. The sting is sharp and immediate. I breathe through it, then cover the wound with fresh gauze and secure it.Back in the bedroom I pull the printed engagement letter and the initial divorce forms from the folder on the nightstand. I read every page again even though I already know what they say. The language is dry and precise—grounds, temporary orders, disclosure, service. My name and Ethan’s sit side by side at the top of the first form. Seeing them there makes the decision feel heavier than it did when it was only an underlined sentence in

I wake to the familiar deep ache in my left shoulder and the side of my neck. The burn has settled into a stubborn, grinding heat that flares whenever I shift against the pillow. For a long moment I lie still in the small bedroom of Aunt Maren’s apartment, staring at the ceiling, letting the previous days settle into something I can actually use. The grocery-store footage cleared me. Ethan still tried to turn Sophia’s performance against me. The investigation into Tiffany is moving. And the notebook on the nightstand still has one line underlined twice. File for divorce. I sit up carefully, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and reach for the phone. Claire’s lawyer contact is already saved. I send a short message requesting the earliest possible consultation and, while I wait, open the notes I wrote two nights ago. Dates. Times. The rejected gift. The medical threat. The false accusation. The lab explosion. Seeing it all in one place steadies me more than the pain medication

I wake to the familiar deep ache in my left shoulder and the side of my neck. The burn has settled into a stubborn, grinding heat that flares whenever I shift against the pillow. For a long moment I lie still in the small bedroom of Aunt Maren’s apartment, staring at the ceiling, letting the previous days settle into something I can actually use. The grocery-store footage cleared me. Ethan still tried to turn Sophia’s performance against me. The investigation into Tiffany is moving. And the notebook on the nightstand still has one line underlined twice. File for divorce. I sit up carefully, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and reach for the phone. Claire’s lawyer contact is already saved. I send a short message requesting the earliest possible consultation and, while I wait, open the notes I wrote two nights ago. Dates. Times. The rejected gift. The medical threat. The false accusation. The lab explosion. Seeing it all in one place steadies me more than the pain medication

I wake to the familiar deep ache in my left shoulder and the side of my neck. The burn has settled into a stubborn, grinding heat that flares whenever I shift against the pillow. For a long moment I lie still in the small bedroom of Aunt Maren’s apartment, staring at the ceiling, letting the previous days settle into something I can actually use. The grocery-store footage cleared me. Ethan still tried to turn Sophia’s performance against me. The investigation into Tiffany is moving. And the notebook on the nightstand still has one line underlined twice. File for divorce. I sit up carefully, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and reach for the phone. Claire’s lawyer contact is already saved. I send a short message requesting the earliest possible consultation and, while I wait, open the notes I wrote two nights ago. Dates. Times. The rejected gift. The medical threat. The false accusation. The lab explosion. Seeing it all in one place steadies me more than the pain medication