All Chapters of My Abusive Ex Watched Me Marry His Stepbrother: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

(Lara's POV)The office smelled like antiseptic and new carpet. White walls, beige furniture, a single window with blinds pulled shut against the afternoon sun. The kind of room designed to feel neutral but instead felt like a cage wrapped in professional courtesy.Dr. Patricia Morrison sat across from me in a gray armchair, a leather notebook open on her lap, a silver pen held between fingers that looked like they had never trembled a day in their life. She was a small woman with sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes, the kind of eyes that cataloged everything they saw and filed it away for future use.No warmth in those eyes. No sympathy. Just clinical observation, cold and precise, like a scientist studying something under glass.I sat on the edge of the couch with my hands folded in my lap, trying to keep them still. The trauma therapist Kyle had hired spent two sessions preparing me for this moment, coaching me on how to answer questions without spiraling, how to breathe through the

(Lara's POV)The waiting room was empty except for me and a fake plant in the corner that was trying too hard to look alive. I sat in a chair with scratchy fabric, staring at the door Dr. Morrison had closed behind me twenty minutes ago, replaying every question she asked like a film stuck on repeat."Are you being coerced?"The question followed me out of her office, down the hallway, into this chair where I sat with my purse in my lap and my thoughts running circles inside my skull.I found myself defending Kyle in my head, which was absurd. I did not like the man. I did not trust him. Half the time I wanted to throw things at his perfectly composed face. He was cold, calculating, manipulative, and he treated my trauma like a line item on a spreadsheet.But coerced? No. That was not the right word for what Kyle did.Kyle handed me a contract and told me exactly what it contained. Every clause, every term, every cold and clinical expectation, laid out in black ink on white paper. He

(Kyle's POV)The boardroom was full by nine sharp. Twelve leather chairs, twelve expensive suits, twelve faces pretending to care about quarterly projections when all they really wanted to discuss was my personal life.I could feel it before the meeting even started. The way conversations stopped when I walked in. The way eyes darted away a beat too slow. The way Marcus Chen sat at the far end of the table with his arms crossed and a smile that looked like it had been sharpened on both sides.Marcus Chen. Sarah's business partner, her attack dog, the man she had been grooming for months to challenge my position on this board. He was smart, well connected, and absolutely loyal to Sarah's money. A dangerous combination in a room full of people who voted based on confidence rather than competence."Let's begin," I announced, taking my seat at the head of the table. "Revenue projections for Q3 show a twelve percent increase over last quarter. The Henderson merger is on track for completio

(Lara's POV)Kyle waited until we were halfway through dinner to drop the bomb. Pad thai again, because it was the only takeout we both agreed on, sitting across from each other at the kitchen island like two strangers sharing a table at a crowded restaurant.He set down his fork and looked at me with an expression I had come to recognize over the past few weeks. The expression that meant he was about to say something I would hate, and he already knew I would hate it, and he was going to say it anyway."The board raised concerns about our marriage today," Kyle began, his voice measured and careful. "Marcus Chen, Sarah's business partner, led the challenge. He's questioning whether our relationship is genuine.""And?""And the board wants proof. More public appearances together. Couple oriented social media presence. And physical affection at events that looks real, not rehearsed."The pad thai turned to cement in my stomach."Physical affection," I repeated slowly, letting the words s

(Lara's POV)I had no choice. Kyle knew it. I knew it. The contract knew it. Page seven, clause fifteen, written in legal language designed to cover every demand he could ever make of me.So I complied.The couple's therapy sessions started on Tuesday. Not real therapy, of course. Nothing about my life with Kyle was real. We sat in a therapist's office in midtown, a woman named Dr. Hayes who specialized in marriage counseling, and we performed like actors running lines for a play nobody asked to see."Tell me what you love most about each other," Dr. Hayes prompted with a warm, encouraging smile.Kyle looked at me. I looked at Kyle. The silence lasted three full seconds before he spoke."Her resilience," Kyle offered, his voice smooth and practiced. "She's the strongest person I know."The words sounded perfect coming out of his mouth. Warm, genuine, the kind of thing a real husband would say about a real wife. Dr. Hayes wrote something in her notebook and nodded approvingly.My turn.