Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bound to my Ex husband’s uncle: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

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

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