Alle Kapitel von The Wife He Betrayed Became His Ruin : Kapitel 31 – Kapitel 40

JULIAN POVI could not stop thinking about her.I had been in this motel room for weeks. I had been staring at the same walls. I had been sleeping on the same hard bed. I had been eating the same cold food. I had been living the same empty life.And I could not stop thinking about her.Nadia.Not Serena. Not my mother. Not the company. Not the money. Not any of it. Just her. Just Nadia.I thought about the way she used to hum in the morning. I thought about the way she used to make tea. I thought about the way she used to sit on the couch and read. I thought about the way she used to look at me. Like I was someone worth looking at. Like I was someone worth loving.I had not been worth loving.I knew that now.I had known it for a while.But I had been too proud to admit it. Too arrogant to change. Too selfish to care.And now she was gone.And I had nothing.---I picked up my phone. I called her.It went to voicemail.I called again.It went to voicemail.I called a third time.It we

NADIA POVMy mother was standing in my hotel room.I had not seen her in fifteen years. I had not heard her voice in fifteen years. I had not touched her in fifteen years. I had mourned her. I had buried her. I had spent years trying to accept that she was gone.And now she was here.She was standing in front of me. Alive. Breathing. Real.I did not know what to feel.I did not know what to say.I did not know what to do.So I did nothing.I just stood there.Staring at her.She was older than I remembered. Her hair had turned gray. Her face had new lines. Her hands were thinner. Her shoulders were smaller. She looked like a woman who had spent years running. Years hiding. Years surviving.But her eyes were the same. Her eyes were my eyes. Her eyes were the eyes I saw every time I looked in the mirror.She was my mother.She was alive.She was here.And I did not know if I wanted to hug her or scream at her.---"Nadia," she said.Her voice was soft. It was careful. It was the voice s

NADIA POVI sat on the edge of the bed.The photograph was still in my hands. My father. Young. Smiling. Shaking hands with Eleanor Ashford. The woman who had raised the man I married. The woman who had been pulling the strings from the beginning.I could not stop looking at it. I could not stop staring at his face. I could not stop trying to find the man I remembered. The man who used to carry me on his shoulders. The man who used to read me bedtime stories. The man who used to tell me that I could be anything I wanted to be.He was not there.The man in the photograph was a stranger.I looked up at my mother."Why?" I asked.My voice was quiet. It was small. It was the voice of a child. The voice of a daughter asking her mother why the world had fallen apart."Why did Eleanor want me dead?"My mother was silent for a long moment. She looked at me. Her eyes were old. Her eyes were tired. Her eyes were full of something I had not seen before.Pain.Because of what your father did," sh

NADIA POVI did not speak.I could not speak.I just stood there. In the middle of the hotel room. Staring at my mother. Staring at the woman who had just told me that my husband was the son of the man who killed my father.Julian.Victor Cole's son.The man I had loved. The man I had married. The man who had betrayed me. The man who had destroyed me.He was not who I thought he was.He had never been who I thought he was.And my mother had known.She had known for months. She had known since the day I filed for divorce. And she had said nothing. She had watched me fight. She had watched me suffer. She had watched me try to rebuild my life. And she had said nothing."Why?" I asked.My voice was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that comes before a storm.She looked at me. Her eyes were wet. Her hands were shaking."Because I did not know what to do," she said. "Because I did not know how to tell you. Because I was afraid.""Afraid of what?""Afraid of what you would do. Afraid of ho

NADIA POVI did not let him in.I stood in the doorway. My body was blocking the entrance. My hand was still on the door. My eyes were on his face.He looked terrible. He looked broken. He looked like a man who had lost everything.But I did not care.I could not care.He had taken everything from me. He had lied to me. He had cheated on me. He had stolen from me. He had replaced me. He had destroyed me.And now he was standing at my door. Telling me he was sorry. Telling me he did not know. Telling me he was a victim.I did not believe him.I could not believe him."You need to leave," I said.He stared at me."Nadia—""You need to leave. Right now. Before I call the police."He did not move. He just stood there. Looking at me. Looking at the woman he had married. Looking at the woman he had destroyed."I am not leaving," he said.I felt my blood run cold."What?""I am not leaving until you hear me out. I am not leaving until you listen to what I have to say. I am not leaving until