Todos los capítulos de The Wife He Loves to Hate: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

For years, I had believed my father was a difficult man, a man who expected too much and rarely explained himself. But the anger he held toward me now seemed to have roots much deeper than a simple disagreement. “Was that why Dad lost everything?” I asked. Liam’s gaze sharpened. “Who told you that?” “I know the company is gone. I know my father isn’t the man he used to be. And I know Edward became wealthy.” Liam sat up, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Those things are connected, but not in a way I can explain in one conversation.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t have every answer. And because I don’t want to give you half the truth and have you build your own conclusions around it.” I studied him. “You’re protecting me.” “I’m trying not to overwhelm you.” “That’s not the same thing.” “No,” he admitted. “It isn’t.” I moved closer to him, resting my hand on his arm. “Lee, I can’t keep living with everyone knowing my past except me.” “I know.” “I need to understan

I read Edward’s message six times. I heard you’re finally asking the right questions. We should talk, sweetheart. The first time, I focused on the word sweetheart. The second time, I wondered how he knew I had been asking questions. By the third, I was thinking about the unknown message I had received the night before. You should ask Liam what really happened the night you decided to marry him. I glanced at the message again. Because he wasn’t the only one who made a promise that night. Who had sent it? And what promise had I made? “Are you going to keep staring at that phone?” Liam’s voice came from behind me. I looked up. He had just stepped out of the bathroom, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. “Edward messaged me.” Liam’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes moved to the screen. “What did he say?” I handed him the phone. He read the message before returning it to me. “Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Apparently, he used to call me that.” “Yes.” “Did it both

I looked away, staring blindly at the dark wall. For a terrifying second, phantom fragments of a life I couldn't recall flashed across my mind—my father’s furious, heartbroken face across a desk... a legal document resting beneath my pen... Edward’s warm hand smoothing over mine... his voice whispering that I no longer had to live in my father's shadow. The images vanished as quickly as they came, leaving behind a sharp, throbbing ache behind my eyes. I pressed my trembling fingers against my temple. “Did you tell me Liam was keeping me trapped?” “I told you what I genuinely believed at the time.” “Did you tell me that leaving him was the only way I could ever be free?” “I told you that you deserved to choose your own destiny, Abigail.” “That is not the same thing, Edward!” “No,” he conceded softly. “It isn't.” I glared at him sharply. “Then what did you actually say to me behind closed doors? What words did you use to strip my life away?” Edward leaned back, his eyes steady

The invitation arrived on a Thursday morning. A charity gala hosted by the Bennett Foundation, complete with a formal dinner, a silent auction, and a guest list packed with prominent business leaders, philanthropists, and figures who regularly graced society pages. Under normal circumstances, I would have viewed it as a pleasant opportunity to spend an evening outside the penthouse walls. Tonight, however, a single name on the guest list altered everything. Finn Wilson. I stared at the name displayed on my phone screen, my thumb hovering in midair. Finn Wilson. For a brief, disorienting second, the elegant living room around me dissolved. I was no longer sitting on the sofa in the home I shared with my husband and daughter. I was twenty years old again, standing in a place I had spent years trying to forget, watching the boy I loved kiss another girl. Stella Bennett. The memory resurfaced without warning, sharp and unforgiving—Finn’s hands on her waist, Stella’s ar

For several long seconds, I could only stare at Finn. I never stopped loving you, Abby. Those words should have shattered my world once. Perhaps they would have made the twenty-year-old version of myself weep with bittersweet relief, or wonder whether the boy who had broken her heart might still be the person she was meant to be with. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. At least, not entirely. I carried her memories, her raw wounds, and her unanswered questions. Yet I was also a woman who had a husband standing faithfully beside her, a little girl who called her Mommy, and a life she was actively fighting to claim. I couldn't allow a ghost from my past to write the script for the woman I was becoming. “Don’t,” I said, my voice dropping into a clear, steady register. Finn’s expression faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “Don’t what, Abby?” “Don’t tell me you never stopped loving me as though those words change a single thing.” “Abby—” “You cheated on me