Semua Bab Untouched for Three Years: Leaving My Billionaire Husband and Return the Pool: Bab 11 - Bab 20

“Then, tell me what concern is.” Margaret’s voice rose by half a note.She turned toward Romy, who was still standing in the corner with her hands at her sides. Margaret’s contempt was no longer being concealed.“She has been married into the Kensington family for three years and has contributed nothing. No child. No social value. She cannot even manage a proper dinner. The last time I brought guests here, the soup she served was cold.”Romy’s lips trembled.The soup had gone cold because Devon had announced, at the last minute, that his mother was arriving with guests. By the time they had arrived and got settled around the dining table, the soup had been sitting out for too long. What Margaret didn’t know was that Romy had started preparing it at eight that morning, and simmered it for four hours.“A woman who can’t even give this family an heir,” Margaret continued in harsh tones, “has no right living in this house. What is she supposed to be? A decoration? Look at her! She can’t e

Romy lay in bed facing the window, her back turned toward the door.She closed her eyes tried to empty her mind. She tried not to think.Not about whether Devon would come to her tonight. Not about what he had said downstairs — this is my marriage — and whether he had meant to protect her, or merely his own right to decide what belonged to him.Then the door opened.Her body tensed before she could force herself to relax.She didn’t turn over. She didn’t even open her eyes. She caught the familiar trace of cedar, mixed with the warmth of his skin, announcing his arrival. His footsteps were almost soundless on the carpet, yet she felt him approaching the bed.The mattress dipped beside her. He lay down under the covers. But not at the usual distance away from her.Romy could feel the warmth of his body through her nightgown. Her heartbeat quickened until the sound of it seemed to fill her ears.A hand touched her waist from behind.At first, only his fingertips brushed the thin fabric

Devon’s voice was low, still rough from what had almost happened, but the urgency in it was unmistakable.“Devon… I’m sorry to call so late…”Caroline’s voice came through the phone in a tearful tremble, made painfully audible by the stillness of the bedroom.“I’m at the Anchor, near the bridge. I think I drank too much. Some men keep trying to talk to me, and my stomach hurts so badly. I’m scared, Devon…”Romy lay on the bed with her nightdress still partway pulled up. She clutched the bedsheet against her. The warmth that had been building between them was fast fading, leaving only the cold air against her skin. She hastily straightened her nightdress and clawed the rest of the bedcovers back over her.Devon turned around to look at her.His eyes were a storm of indecision. Lingering desire tangled with sudden alarm. His grip tightened on the cell phone.“Romy,” he said, his voice strained, “she’s alone at a bar. She needs me —”Romy cut him off. “Go!” she snorted in disgust.Devon’

The commotion in the VIP lounge grew louder.Caroline weaved unsteadily in her high heels, half leaning against Devon as if her body no longer knew how to hold itself upright. She swiped at her tears with the back of one hand, her voice thick with drink and grieDevon.“Devon, I only said I liked swimming. I don’t understand why that coach had to humiliate me in front of everyone. Just because I wasn’t trained professionally, does that mean I deserved to be looked down on?”Devon’s eyebrows were drawn tight. He had always despised scenes in public. In business, he was decisive to the point of coldness. The kind of man who ended problems before they had time to become embarrassing. But Caroline was crying, her face pale and wet beneath the glare of the bar’s lights. He put an arm around her waist, trying to steady her against her swaying.“That’s enough,” he said quietly. “You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll take you home.”“I haven’t had too much!”Caroline petulantly turned her head aw

Romy’s words drew a line that Devon could no longer cross.He stood in the space between booths, caught in the shifting light from the bar, listening as she spoke another man’s name in a tone he had never heard from her before — soft, familiar, and trusting.Liam.The name struck him like a dull force. That name held a depth of meaning that he was unaware of. Did they have history? Romy and Liam? He finally realised that there was so much he didn’t know. Hadn’t ever bothered to find out.He wanted to stay and demand an explanation. He needed to ask why she could sit there so quietly, enjoying another man’s protection while refusing to even look at her own husband.But the irony of the situation left him with nothing to hold onto.Caroline was now quietly sobbing beside him, clutching at his arm. He pulled her hand away but she wouldn’t let go. The swimmers at Romy’s table watched him with open hostility. Even the security staff approaching from the bar were looking at him as though he