Todos os capítulos de He's Still in Love with Me... But I'm Married. What Do I Do?: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

The first crisp turn of autumn arrived on a Friday morning, dusting the grass on the north bluff with a pale layer of white frost. The heavy sea fog had cleared early, leaving the sky overhead flat, clean, and brilliant blue.By six-thirty, the kitchen was filled with the rich, inviting aroma of dark roast coffee and toasted cinnamon bread.Elowen stood near the wide window over the sink, watching the sun hit the newly installed cedar shingles on the east wing roof. The fresh wood gleamed like polished copper in the low morning light. She wore a thick navy blue cardigan over her denim dress, her gold wedding ring catching the sun as she wrapped both hands around her steaming ceramic mug.The back door clicked open, and Cassian stepped inside, carrying a small armload of split birch firewood.He had completely discarded the elastic shoulder wrap three days ago, moving with the fluid, unbothered strength that had always defined him. His dark gray t-shirt fit snug across his broad chest,

The rain began just after five in the morning, hitting the north bluff in hard, slanted sheets. It rattled against the kitchen window pane like thrown gravel, driven by a cold wind sweeping off the grey water below.Inside, the stove crackled softly as the birch logs caught fire.Elowen stood at the sink, her dark hair pulled back into a loose braid resting over her shoulder. She filled the heavy metal kettle with tap water, listening to the house settle around her. For the first time in as long as she could remember, the creak of the roof beams didn't make her stomach tie itself in knots. The new cedar shingles held tight. Not a drop leaked onto the floorboards.A quiet step sounded in the hallway doorway.Cassian walked in, wearing his dark wool sweater and heavy work boots. His dark hair was still wet from stepping outside to check the rain drainage near the wood shed. He carried a small wooden box under his left arm, his face thoughtful.He set the box on the oak table and walked

The temperature dropped drastically overnight, turning the mud on the north bluff into hard, jagged ruts. By six in the morning, a thin skin of ice glinted over the rain barrel by the back porch. The wind blew steady from the northeast, humming through the cedar siding of the community center with a low, hollow whistle.Inside the kitchen, the air was cold enough to show a person's breath until the stove caught fire.Elowen stood over the iron cooktop in her thick wool cardigan, blowing softly on a handful of pine shavings to feed a small flame. Her gold locket clinked softly against the iron stove front as she leaned forward. When the dry wood caught with a sudden whoosh, she closed the small black door, latching it tight.A quiet step creaked against the pine floorboards behind her.Cassian walked into the kitchen wearing his dark canvas work jacket, buttoned tight to the throat. His boots were already laced, and his dark hair was combed back neat. He didn't say a word as he stepped

The sharp crack of snapping timber echoed across the ice-crusted bay just before dawn.Elowen bolted upright in bed, her hand flying straight to her throat where her gold locket rested. Beside her, Cassian was already moving. He threw off the thick quilt, his boots hitting the pine floorboards with a heavy thud before his eyes were even fully open."That wasn't the wind," Cassian said, his voice flat and sharp. He pulled his canvas work coat over his wool shirt and grabbed his heavy leather boots.Downstairs, the back door slammed open. Callan’s voice boomed up the stairwell, rough with panic. "Cassian! El! Get down here! The old fish-house roof took a hit from a fallen hemlock! The north wall is giving way!"Elowen didn't pause to grab a coat. She threw on a heavy wool shawl over her dress, unlatched the bedroom door, and ran down the hallway.The morning air outside was bitter cold, sharp enough to cut the lungs like broken glass. The sky above the north bluff was a bruised violet,

The night brought a biting, ice-edged wind that swept off the open water, rattling the heavy glass panes of the kitchen window. By six in the morning, the ground outside was frozen hard as iron, but inside the kitchen, heat radiated from the iron stove in steady, comforting waves.Elowen stood over the wooden table, rolling out thick dough for lard biscuits. Her sleeves were pushed past her elbows, a light dusting of white flour coating her forearms. Against her wool dress, the gold locket rested heavy and familiar, catching the yellow glow of the oil lamp hanging above the counter.The heavy latch on the back door clicked, and Cassian stepped into the room. He carried a wooden crate filled with polished copper piping and a clean glass lantern globe wrapped carefully in burlap. A dusting of white frost clung to the wool collar of his dark coat, and his cheeks were flushed from the sharp wind.He set the crate down on the bench by the door, took off his work gloves, and walked straight