Todos los capítulos de My best friend's billionaire husband: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

I couldn't get myself to leave his side. Jayden seemed so peaceful when he slept, curled beneath the blanket with the stuffed rabbit Sebastian had bought him for his first birthday pressed firmly against his chest. One of its ears had long ago gone limp from being dragged around the house, and its once bright fur had faded from years of being held, squeezed and taken everywhere a three year old boy thought important. He had refused to sleep without it for months after Sebastian gave it to him.Now it was still there. Still tucked beneath his arm. Still protecting him from whatever nightmares had followed him home.I sat beside the bed and watched him breathe. In. Out. Slow. Steady. He looked so at peace. He didn't look like someone who had been missing the entire part of last night.That thought should have made me feel better. Instead, it made me look at him longer.I reached forward and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.“Where did you go, baby?”He didn't answe

I looked out the office window, but Vincent's face was all I could see.Work wasn't in my mind.Nothing was.The city stretched beneath me, moving like everything was normal. Cars crawled through the streets, people rushed across sidewalks, and somewhere beneath my office, the company continued functioning without me.My computer screen remained untouched.Jayden was home.That was what I kept telling myself.He was home.He was alive.He was with Isabelle.That should have been enough.It should have allowed me to breathe.Instead, all I could think about was Vincent.The things he said.The way he looked at me after all those years.The ease with which he had spoken.As though I had only seen him yesterday.My office door burst open.My thoughts shattered.I looked up sharply.Frank stood in the doorway.His face looked in a constant flux of relief and concern. His tie was slightly crooked, and he tried to rearrange it as though that would somehow make the nervousness in his express

I came into the bar after a busy shift.I had been working my second job as a barrister at a breakfast joint, and my feet were already killing me. It was about a year into Isabelle's wedding, and I was still wearing my apron.I needed a break.I honestly needed dick .I needed to be laid hard.Just a way of dealing with stress.I pushed through the door, my apron still tied around my waist, and immediately signaled the bartender, my hand raised.“A martini on the rocks.”The bartender looked at me, his brow raised into an arc.“A little too early for day drinking, huh?”I sighed.“Just shut up and get my drink, would ya?”He came with it.Then another.Then another.By the third one, I was already feeling it.I could feel the alcohol getting a hold of me, warming my body and dulling the exhaustion that had been sitting on my shoulders all day.The music was still playing.A rock song by Cigarettes After Sex, one of my favorite bands.My apron was loosened.Maybe I did it unconsciously

Isabelle wasn't herself.All the texts and calls I gave her were met with silence.None of them were returned, at least not with any words other than, I'm okay.That bothered me.A lot.Isabelle wasn't usually difficult to reach. If she was angry, she told you. If she was sad, she would call you crying and talk for hours until she either felt better or fell asleep. Silence wasn't her thing.But lately, everything about her had changed.I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at my phone.My last message was still there.Are you sure you're okay?Her response came hours later.I'm okay.That was it.No heart.No stupid emoji.No question asking how I was.Nothing.I sighed and dropped the phone beside me.Jayden's return should have brought everything back to normal.It should have been the end of the nightmare.But it wasn't.If anything, everything seemed worse now.Sebastian was tense.Isabelle had practically disappeared into herself.There was extra security around the mansion.And

Lydia's POVI was flushed with nerves.My hands wouldn't stay still.I had the script in the back of my head, every line memorized after weeks of rehearsals, but memorizing something in an empty practice room was very different from standing backstage on opening night.I just hoped it came out natural.I let out a huge breath.The air backstage smelled like powder, hairspray and expensive perfume. Actors moved around me in costumes, some whispering their lines while others stared silently at the walls like they were trying not to remember there were hundreds of people waiting on the other side of the curtain.My stomach twisted.I looked down at my hands.“Fuck.”I rubbed them against my costume.“You'll be fine.”I looked up.My director stood a few feet away.His face was looking straight at me.For a second, he said nothing.Then he gave me a small nod and peeled away.That was it.No long speech.No unnecessary encouragement.Just a nod.Strangely, it helped.I looked toward the s