Ch. 76..80: My Husband Wants An Open Marriage Chapter 76-80

 

CHAPTER 076: I Hate To Disappoint You

I pause for a second, my brain refusing to process what I'm seeing.

Two lines. Bold as hell, too. Not even faint, not even giving me room for doubt.

I'm pregnant. Oh, my god.

The stick feels heavier than it should, like it's made of lead instead of plastic. I sink down onto the closed toilet seat, legs too weak to keep holding me up. My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, pressing against the fabric of my dress. I don't know what I'm hoping to find, maybe a baby kick or something ridiculous like that.

Pregnant.

How? The question turns through my mind, absurd and almost laughable. I mean, I know how, biologically speaking, but after all these years, after every single failure, I'd accepted-no, resigned myself to the idea that it wasn't going to happen for me. "Seven years," I whisper to no one, the words tasting bitter. Seven years of treatments, tears, hormone shots, and endless invasive tests that always ended the same: Sorry, Mrs. O'Brien. It's not you. We can't explain it.

Oh, but now? Now, life decides it's time to give me a cosmic middle finger, right when my world's already teetering on the edge of chaos.

And then the realization hits.

It wasn't me.

It was Ryan.

Oh. My. God.

Ryan, who had me questioning every fiber of my existence, Ryan, who paraded his fertile little mistress in front of me while I cried alone in the guestroom of my own damn house. And now, that mistress is carrying some other guy's baby, isn't she? I mean, I suspected it after I caught her with that man in the surveillance room. But I wasn't too convinced. Now, it makes so much sense.

The laugh starts deep in my chest, low and bitter, like a storm rolling in. Before I know it, it bubbles of Loud and sharp, filling the tiny pharmacy bathroom. I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle it use. The sheer ridiculousness of it all-the timing, the irony, the absurdity-is too much.

The bathroom door creaks open, and I freeze.

no

When the footsteps get closer, I open the stall's door. The intruder is a woman in a floral blouse and too much perfume. Her expression shifts from casual disinterest to thinly veiled concern when she sees me standing there, clutching a pregnancy test like it's a holy relic. Ttry to stop laughing, but now it's worse because I'm embarrassed, and that just makes everything funnier

somehow.

The woman's eyebrows shoot up as she edges closer to the sinks, clearly weighing her escape options.

"I'm not crazy," I say, still giggling, holding up a hand as if to reassure her. "I promise."

She doesn't look convinced. She nods anyway, the way you do when you're trying not to provoke a wild animal, and then she takes the farthest sink from me, washing her hands.

CHAPTER 076: I Hate To Disappoint You

I clear my throat, straighten my back, and shove the test into my bag, zipping it up like I'm locking away a state secret. With as much dignity as I can muster, I wash my hands and then walk past her, plastering a smile on my face. "Have a nice day," I chirp.

She mumbles something unintelligible, and I make my escape, practically sprinting back to the car.

Once I'm safely inside, I slam the door and rest my head against the steering wheel. The laughter's gone now, replaced by something else-something heavier, deeper, and way more complicated.

What the hell am I going to do?

I fish my phone out of my bag and stare at it for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen. My mind spins in circles, trying to make sense of my emotions. Am I scared? Yes. Angry? Hell yes. Excited? Hell to the fuck yeah. Somewhere deep down, beneath the layers of cynicism and trauma, there's a flicker of something I can't quite

name yet.

Without thinking too hard, I type out a message to Luke.

'Screw the 'keeping distance' rule. Can you sneak in tonight?'

I hit send before I can overthink it. The response comes almost instantly, like he's been waiting for an excuse to talk to me.

'See you at 8.'

For some reason, the sight of those words makes my chest ache. I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and start the car, my mind still a mess of swirling thoughts as I drive back toward the office.

By the time I park, my stomach's twisted itself into a knot. I pull down the sunvisor and flip open the mirror, studying my reflection like I might find answers hidden in the lines of my face.

I shake my head, shove the visor back up, and step out of the car.

For better or worse, nothing in my life will ever be the same.

That is, of course, until I step into the office and see Ayumi Sato standing in front of Susan's desk. She's dressed in a sleek black suit, and her expression is the same as always-cold, unreadable, and vaguely disdainful.

"Julie," she says. "Susan was just telling me you stepped out."

"I did."

I don't want to smile at her, but I can feel the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's no use trying to tamp it down. The Euphoria from the pregnancy test is still getting the better of me, and Ayumi's eyes are narrowed. Her frown deepens as she stares at me. "What's with the red face?" she says.

"Excuse me?"

"You seem happy."

"Oh?" I say, brushing past her toward my office. "Did you need something?"

She follows me, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Yes, actually."

I push open the door to my office and gesture for her to step inside. "Come on in."

saint You

She hesitates for a second before walking in, her gaze sweeping the room. I make a point of walking behind my desk, putting some distance between us, and gesture toward one of the chairs across from me. "Have a seat."

"I'll stand," she says.

Of course, she will. God forbid Ayumi Sato relax for even a second.

She folds her arms, glances around again, and says, "I see you've changed the place a bit."

"Happens when you move in," I reply, leaning back in my chair and clasping my hands on the desk.

Her eyes snap back to me, sharp and assessing. She's always like this-like she's trying to figure out which part of you to dismantle first.

"So," I say, breaking the silence that's becoming unbearable, "is there something specific you wanted to discuss?"

She clears her throat, her expression never wavering. "I came to inform you that the new partnership we've formed with Paragon Jewels is going to be put in motion soon."

I arch a brow. "Okay?"

"There will be a meeting tomorrow," she continues. "You, the CEO, myself, and a few others. Including Ryan O'Brien."

She says Ryan's name slowly, deliberately, like she's dropping a grenade and waiting for it to explode. I don't flinch, but I know she's watching me for any sign of a crack in my armor.

"Got it," I say. "I'm honored that you came in person to tell me this. Details of the meeting will be sent by email, will they not?"

"Yes." Her tone is measured, but there's something else there now-hesitation, maybe? "But I-"

"You what?" I cut her off, tired of this shit. "Thought it would be nice to say it to my face? Thought I'd cry? I'm the little girl who can't keep her private life in check? Let me save you the trouble, Ayumi. I promise you, there's nothing for you to worry about. Just like I said in the interview, the only thing I care about is having both our signatures on a divorce paper. Ryan O'Brien is a business transaction to me now, nothing more if you came here looking for drama, I hate to disappoint you."

CHAPTER 077: Expensive Lingerie

The words poured out sharper than I intended. But damn it, I'm tired. Tired of being poked and prodded like some fragile thing that might shatter at any moment.

For the first time, Ayumi looks caught off guard. Her cold, unshakable demeanor softens-just a fraction, but it's enough to make me pause.

"Alright," she says, her voice quieter than before. "I'll see myself out."

She turns on her heel and walks out without another word, leaving me alone in the silence of my office.

1 exhale, leaning back in my chair and staring at the ceiling. What the hell was that about?

I decide not to dwell on it. Today's a good day. I'm not letting anyone spoil it for me.

It's 9:00 p.m. Luke's calls have been going straight to voicemail. I try again anyway, holding my breath as the line rings once, twice, then-

"We're sorry, the number you're trying to reach-

I throw my phone onto the couch, the screen lighting up momentarily before going dark, mocking me with its silence.

Staring out the window, I tap my fingers on the edge of the sill. He said eight o'clock. Luke is punctual to a fault. What could possibly be keeping him? My mind races with worst-case scenarios, but I force myself to breathe. Maybe he's stuck in traffic. Or his phone died. Or-no. Enough.

I step away from the window and glance around the room, the evidence of my earlier optimism laid out like a scene from a romantic comedy:

A platter of strawberries, artfully arranged, sits on the coffee table.

A bottle of sparkling juice-because wine is suddenly off limits-chills in an ice bucket.

Candles flicker softly on the mantle, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. And then there's me.

right

I tug at the hem of the silky one-piece lingerie I bought just for tonight. It clings to my curves.. places, a vision straight out of one of those glossy fashion spreads. But right now, it feels more like an elaborate joke. "This is ridiculous," I mutter, heading to the bar.

The bottle of red wine calls to me, its deep crimson hue promising a temporary escape. My hand hovers over it before I remember-pregnant. I'm pregnant. I can't drink,

With a frustrated sigh, I grab a carton of juice from the fridge instead and pour myself a glass. The clink of ice cubes hitting the cup feels like the only thing keeping me grounded.

Then I climb the stairs, heading to my room.

Upstairs, my bedroom is bathed in soft, dim light. The scent of lavender fills the air from the diffuser I set up earlier. A romantic ballad plays softly in the background-something about forever love and dancing in moonlight. I sink onto the edge of the bed, staring at the room I spent an hour preparing.

CHAPTER 077: Expensive Lingefe

For what? To get stood up?

The carefully arranged rose petals, the neatly folded throw on the chair, the dimmed lights-all of it feels useless

now.

Taking my juice, I slide open the balcony door and step outside. The cool night air brushes against my skin. I sit on the cushioned chair, pulling my legs up to my chest as I stare at the stars. Why am I crying?

I don't even notice the tears until I feel the wet streaks on my cheeks. I swipe at them angrily, but they keep coming, like some cruel faucet I can't shut off.

"Stupid hormones," I whisper, sniffling into the empty night.

I rest my head against the back of the chair, cradling the juice in my lap. The stars blur together as exhaustion and frustration weigh heavy on me. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks. A car engine hums. And then- Warm lips press against the side of my neck, soft and familiar.

"Julie."

His voice is low, quiet, filled with something I can't quite place. I open my eyes, and there he is.

Luke.

He's crouched in front of me, his face level with mine. His hair is messy, like he's been running his fingers through it, a habit I know he reserves for moments of stress or anger. His tie is slightly askew, his shirt untucked at the edges. "Nice of you to come," I say.

"I'm so sorry."

He looks tired, drained even, but I'm too angry to let it soften me. I sit up, setting my glass down with a little too much force.

"Luke, just leave me alone."

"I can't."

"Fine, then stay here. I'll leave."

I push myself up, but before I can take a single step, I feel his hands on my waist.

"Luke, what the hell-"

He lifts me effortlessly, and before I can protest; I'm pressed against the cool glass of the balcony door.

"Luke!"

His hands are firm, holding me in place as he wraps my legs around his waist. His face is inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips.

"I want you," he says.

The words knock the air from my lungs.

"Luke, I-"

His forehead rests against mine, his eyes burning into me with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away.

CHAPTER 077: Expensive LingeNe

"I need you, Julie."

He leans in, his lips brushing my lips, soft and tentative, as if he's giving me the chance to pull away. But I don't.

Instead, I kiss him back. My arms wrap around his neck as the anger and frustration melt into a deep hunger.

The kiss grows more fervent with each passing moment. My legs tighten around Luke's waist, pulling him closer as he responds in kind, wrapping his arms around my back to hold me firmly against him.

As we kiss, our hands begin to roam. My fingers dig into Luke's shoulders. My nails scrape against his skin. He groans into my mouth. Gripping my ass, he pulls me more tightly against him as he thrusts his hips, the bulge in his pants pressing against my core. The sensation sends a shiver of desire through me, and I moan. My tongue tangles with his as we continue to kiss. Our bodies sway gently against the balcony door. He pulls back from the kiss to look at me. The intensity in his eyes makes my heart race. "I fucking love you, Julie,

he whispers.

71

The words send a thrill through me, and I feel a smile spread across my face as I lean in to kiss him again.

"I love you too, Luke," I reply.

He pulls me closer, his lips finding mine once more as we kiss deeply.

"Fuck me," I say into his mouth.

He groans. Then he reaches down between us, his fingers teasing me as he inches closer to the heat between my legs. "You look so sexy tonight," he says. "Was it all for me?"

I nod, unable to speak.

His gaze

makes my skin tingle. "Good girl," he says, bracing me against the glass.

With a sudden, fierce motion, he rips my lingerie. The sound of fabric tearing fills the air.

I laugh, surprised, as I glance down at the shredded remains of my underwear. "That was an expensive lingerie,

say.

"Send me an invoice."

He undoes his belt and zips down his pants. Once his erection is free, he adjusts me against the ' are firm on my hips as he positions himself at my entrance!

His hands

11

And then, without warning, he slams into me, the sudden invasion sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. H gasp, my eyes widening in surprise, as he begins to thrust, his movements powerful and urgent.

He thrusts into me again and again, his hips crashing against mine with an intensity that's almost electrocuting.

"Fuck, yes," I moan as he buries himself deeper inside me,

The glass of the balcony door shakes and trembles with the force of our lovemaking, but neither of us cares. "Harder," I say, my voice echoing through the night air. I pull at his hair roughly, and he groans. "Deeper." He obeys, his body slamming into mine with an animalistic ferocity. I'm out of breath. Fuck, it feels so good.

I squeeze my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer as he continues to thrust. "Yes, yes, yes," I chant, my voice rising in intensity as the pleasure builds within me.

He slams into me once more, the impact sending a wave of ecstasy through my body.

CHAPTER 077: Expensive Lingee

"Come for me, Julie," he urges, his voice raw with passion. "I want to feel you squeezing my dick."

1 arch my back, my body trembling as the orgasmn builds. And then, suddenly, I'm there, my entire body convulsing with pleasure as I cry out his name.

He follows soon after, his body stiffening as he finds his release. "Fuck," he groans, his voice filled with satisfaction as he buries himself deep within me. The orgasm washes over him. I feel the warmth of his release, and I'm filled with a sense of satisfaction and contentment

As we catch our breaths, the cool night air brushing against our damp skin, Luke carries me away from the balcony glass. He sets me gently on the cushioned chair, crouching in front of me as if he's anchoring himself to the ground.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he says. His eyes scan my face like it holds the answers to every question he's too scared to ask.

I want to smile, to let the warmth of his words wrap around me, but something feels... wrong. There's a tightness in his jaw, a shadow in his eyes.

"Luke," I say, brushing a strand of his messy hair back. "What is it? What happened?"

He shakes his head, looking down at his hands. "Let's go back inside. It's cold out here."

Oh no.

I grab his chin and force him to look at me. "We're not going anywhere until you tell me."

His shoulders sag under the weight of whatever he's about to say. "Julie..." He pauses, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "There's been an accident."

Not interesting at all

CHAPTER 078: The Pull Of Sleep

From the moment Luke came in, I knew something was wrong. He had that look the one that says, 'I've been to hell and back, and I'm not sure if I'm still alive.' I thought it might be work. A failed deal, some corporate drama, anything but this. "What kind of accident, Luke?" I say. I feel like I know the answer already, but I'm praying to whatever high power's out there that it's not what I think it is.

He closes his eyes for a moment. When he finally speaks, his words are almost inaudible.

"Sara's in the hospital."

Sara. His ex-wife.

"What?" I say, my hands clutching the arms of the chair. "Oh my God, Luke. Is she? What happened? Is she okay?"

The real question I want to ask is, 'What have you done, Luke?' But I can't find the courage to ask. And also, maybe I'm giving him the benefit of doubt. It could be something else. Maybe something happened to her and Luke's name was sitting at the top of her contact list. Maybe she called him. Maybe, maybe, and maybe. It's better than actually believing what my mind is saying, that Luke went to her house even after I told him to leave her

alone.

Luke doesn't answer right away. Instead, he stands, pacing the small balcony like a caged animal, his hands raking through his hair, his breaths shallow and uneven.

"Luke!" I say, standing up and grabbing his arm to stop him. "Talk to me!"

He looks at me then, his eyes filled with something I can't quite place.

"She fell down the stairs," he says.

""What stairs?"

Silence. He's staring at me with something close to an apology.

"What fucking stairs, Luke? Did you go to her house?"

His silence is all the confirmation I need.

"Did you push her?"

His head snaps back like I've just slapped him. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"I don't know, Luke!" The words burst out of me. "You're not telling me anything! You came here almost two hours late, looking like your world had caved in. You planted me on that glass like you were trying to fuck something out of your mind, and now you're still reluctant to tell me what's eating you up. What was I supposed to think? You went to her house, Luke. The woman who caused your child's death. You went to her house. What were you thinking?"

"I didn't push her." His voice is calm, but there's an edge to it.

"Okay? So what happened?"

"She fell," he says. "She lost consciousness. I took her to the hospital. She has a concussion and some bruising The doctor said she'll probably wake up tomorrow."

"And then what?"

CHAPTER 078: The Pull Of Sleep

+29 BONUS

"She's going to turn this all against me." He runs a hand through his hair again. "I know Sara. The second she opens her eyes, she'll find a way to make me the villain. I just... I needed one night of peace before everything turns to shit."

I'm stunned into silence. The Luke I know is calm, measured. This Luke is unraveling, his anger and guilt bleeding into every word.

For a long moment, the only sound is the soft rustle of the night breeze. Finally, I reach out, stretching my hand toward him. "Come here."

He hesitates for a second before stepping forward, his body folding into mine as if he's been holding himself together with duct tape and hope. I wrap my arms around him, running my fingers through his hair, whispering the only words I can think of. "It's going to be okay."

He doesn't respond, but the way his arms tighten around me tells me he wants to believe it.

At the back of my mind, questions are piling up. Why did he go there? What was he thinking? What exactly happened? But I push them down. For now, he needs comfort more than he needs an interrogation.

After a while, he pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands still resting on my waist.

"Julie..." His voice is hoarse. "I-"

I press a finger to his lips.

"Not now," I say. "We'll talk later. Let's just... let's just get through tonight."

He nods, his forehead resting against mine for a moment before he picks me up, cradling me like I'm something fragile.

He carries me inside, setting me on the bed. As he lies down beside me, I feel the way his body sags against the mattress.

I want to tell him everything will be fine, that Sara won't do anything, but the truth is, I don't know. And that uncertainty terrifies me.

Still, I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his

"Can I stay the night?" he asks.

"Of course. We'll get through this together."

The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the heater and the muffled sounds of the night outside. We're lying on the bed, face to face, our bodies close but not quite touching.

His hand is warm when he lifts it, fingers brushing against my cheek as though he's memorizing me. His thumb traces slow, lazy circles along my jawline, his touch so soft it almost feels like being touched by feathers. "What did I ever do right to deserve you?"

I roll my eyes, though I'm smiling. "You probably don't."

His laughs, and then he shakes his head, his lips curling into something that almost looks like relief. "Fair enough."

His fingers keep moving, tracing invisible lines down the curve of my nose, over my lips, along the arch of my

CHAPTER 078. The Pull Of Sleep

brow. He's looking at me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else, wandering down dark alleys I can't follow. "Luke," I say.

He doesn't answer, just leans forward and kisses me.

It's different this time-nothing like the fire on the balcony. This kiss is soft, reverent, almost hesitant, like he's afraid I'll break if he presses too hard. His lips move against mine slowly, drawing me in, and for a moment, everything else falls away. Then he lifts himself onto me, his arms bracketing my head and his lips still locked on

mine.

As he settles between my legs, I feel the heat of his body radiating down onto my skin. His lips leave mine, trailing down my neck, across my collarbone, and back up to my earlobe, where he nips.

His hand travels south. He finds my folds and probes gently. And then he increases the pressure. I moan, my body responding to his touch. Two fingers dig in, finding that perfect spot that makes my insides clench.

"You're always wet," he says, his voice low and husky.

I want to reply with something sarcastic, but I can't find my voice.

He pulls those fingers out and traces a path along my slit, finding my clit. His touch is feather-light, almost teasing, but it sends shivers through me. I rotate my hips, pushing into his hand, begging for more. His fingers move in time with my movements, stroking me in a rhythm that has me on the edge.

"Oh, god," I say.

His fingers travel down again, and he buries them in me, while his thumb still strokes my clit at a relentless pace. I feel him arching those two fingers, finding that magical spot again. As he strokes it, I feel myself climbing higher and higher.

I cry out his name, the sound echoing through the room as I give in to the orgasm. It's waves after waves of pleasure. As I'm cumming, I feel his fingers leaving and something much bigger replacing them.

His movements are precise, calculated, as if he's savoring every inch of me. He withdraws, then thrusts back in, his dick gliding in and out with a smoothness that's almost surreal. The slowness of it, the rhythm, the way he seems to be touching every part of me at the same time, it's all too much.

"Fuck, Luke," I say.

"Tell me you'll always be mine."

His body rotates, his hips circling in a way that grazes my clit with every thrust. It's a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but it's killing me. The sensation builds. I feel like I'm losing my mind, like my body is on the verge of exploding into a million pieces.

"Say it, Julie. Say you'll always be mine."

"Luke, I-"

His eyes are locked on mine, his gaze intense and focused. I see the desire there, the need, the hunger. It's a look that says he's lost in this moment, in me, in our love-making. And as he moves inside me, I feel like I'm lost too, adrift in a sea of pleasure and desire. The world around us fades away, leaving only this, this moment, this connection.

Honestly, it isn't fair, him asking me to form a coherent speech right now.

But I try. "I'm yours, Luke," I say, "Now. Always!"

I scream that last part because Luke's movements have gone wild.

CHAPTER 078: The Pull Of Sleep

He pumps faster and faster, driving into me with a force that makes me gasp. I feel him deep inside me, stretching me to the limit, and I know I'll be sore tomorrow. But right now, I don't care. All that matters is this moment, this connection, this raw, animalistic pleasure. "Say it again," he commands.

"I'm yours."

"Again!"

"I'm fucking yours, Luke."

His movements become more frantic, his breathing ragged as he thrusts into me with a wild abandon. We're a tangle of limbs, a mess of moans and groans, our bodies slick with sweat and desire. I feel like I'm being taken to the edge of the world, that I'm hurtling towards an unknown destination, and I'm not sure I want to stop.

I can feel him building toward his climax, his dick throbbing inside me as he grunts and groans. And then, suddenly, we're both cumming. Our bodies shudder and convulse as the orgasm washes over us.

He collapses against me. His warmth is comforting and overwhelming all at once, until I feel him pull away. There's a whisper of cool air where his body used to be as he rolls onto his back.

Now we're both staring at the ceiling.

"That was..." he starts.

I want to answer-crazy, intense, everything-but the words never make it past my lips. My eyelids grow heavier with each passing second.

The exhaustion of the day, the emotional rollercoaster, the sex-it all wraps around me like a soft cocoon. My limbs feel weightless, sinking into the mattress, and the world begins to blur at the edges.

I think I hear him chuckle and feel him plant a kiss on my forehead, but even that fades as my thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

And then there's nothing but the quiet, the warmth of his presence beside me, and the sweet, unrelenting pull of sleep.

CHAPTER 079: Visitor's Pass Luke~~

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. It's happening to me right now, except I'm not dying. But it sure feels like it. How had I been so stupid? I let my anger get the best of me, and now that witch is hospitalized.

Sara. The name burns through my mind like an acid. My fists clench against the sheets. All she needed was a reason to make my life miserable, and I gave it to her on a platter of gold.

I rake a hand through my hair, staring at the ceiling, as if the textured white paint can offer some sort of divine answer. It doesn't. My mind replays yesterday in flashes: her smug face, the way her voice dripped with condescension, how my chest tightened as she spoke like Juan's death was nothing more than an unfortunate mishap in her charmed life.

The anger had felt like a living thing inside me, roaring to life with every word she said. And now she's in a hospital bed, unconscious.

I groan, turning onto my side. My eyes fall on Julie. She's still sleeping, her face soft, peaceful, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside me. Her hair is splayed out over the pillow, and her slightly parted lips look like they're murmuring something. God, have I fucked this up too?

The thought makes my chest tighten. Julie doesn't know the full extent of what happened last night. She knows enough to ask questions I don't want to answer, but she's too kind, too patient to push me.

I don't deserve her.

I slip out of bed as quietly as I can, wincing when the mattress shifts under my weight. Julie stirs, letting out a soft hum before settling back into her dreams. I hold my breath, waiting for her to wake up. But she doesn't. Good.

My clothes are on the floor, where I threw them last night before falling asleep. I grab them and start dressing, moving slowly. When I'm done, I glance back at her, still asleep, still beautiful.

The notepad on the bedside table catches my eye. I tear off a sheet, the sound deafening in the quiet.

'Gone to the hospital. Didn't want to wake you. I'll call later.'

I set the note down next to her, pausing as I do. My hand hovers above her face, itching to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes, to leave one last kiss on her lips. But I don't, not wanting to risk waking her

I feel like this is the last time I'll see her-or the last time I'll see her like this, Peaceful. Trusting.

I shake my head and step back, the ache in my chest growing heavier with every passing second.

In the hallway, the silence feels louder. I head down the stairs. My keys jangle in my pocket as I step out into the early morning light.

The cool air hits my face. I get into my car and sit there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Then I drive to the hospital.

I try to focus on the road, but my mind keeps replaying Sara's fall, the sound of her body hitting the stairs, the split second where time seemed to freeze.

CHAPTER 079: Visitor's Pass

Was it an accident?

Yes.

Could I have stopped it?

Maybe.

Did I push her?

No. But try telling that to her. Or the doctors. Or anyone else who's been waiting for me to screw up so they can hang me with it.

I grip the wheel harder, the leather biting into my palms.

By the time I pull into the hospital parking lot, my stomach is churning. The fluorescent lights inside the building feel harsher than usual. I take a deep breath and step inside, bracing myself for whatever comes next. Inside the hospital, the scent of antiseptic hangs in the air. The receptionist at the desk looks up, her expression blank but polite.

"I'm here to see Sara Gonzalez," I say, keeping my tone steady, though my insides are twisting

She types into her computer, her nails clicking against the keyboard like tiny hammers.

""Relation?"

I hesitate. Ex-husband isn't exactly a title I wear with pride. "I'm... a friend," I say. "I brought her in last night. My name is Lucas Martinez."

• Her eyes flick up, scanning me briefly. "You'll need a visitor's pass.'

She reaches under the desk, pulling out a small laminated card with a clip. "Room 317. Take the elevator to the third floor, turn left, and follow the signs.

I nod, mumbling a quick "thank you" before taking the pass. As I walk toward the elevators, the weight in my chest grows heavier.

When I reach Sara's room, I pause outside the door, my hand hovering over the handle. Through the small glass pane, I can see her sitting upright on the bed, dressed in pale blue hospital scrubs that seem far too serene for the chaos she brings. Her dark hair is pulled back, though a few strands have escaped, framing her face. There's a band-aid on her forehead and a faint bruise forming around her left eye.

And, of course, she's eating Jell-O.

I push the door open, stepping inside. Her eyes meet mine and she immediately straightens, setting the plastic cup of Jell-O aside.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi."

She tilts her head, studying me with that sharp gaze of hers that always made me feel like a specimen under a microscope. "Did you bring chocolates?" ""What?"

"Anything to eat," she says, gesturing to the Jell-O. "This stuff tastes like regret and broken dreams."

"I'll get something for you shortly."

CHAPTER 979 Visor's Pass

As I turn to leave, her voice stops me.

"Lucas."

I freeze. It's been years since she's called me that, and it feels like a ghost rising from the grave. I turn back to face her, bracing for whatever manipulation she's about to unleash. "I know," she says, her voice softer now. "I know you didn't push me."

Relief rushes through me. But before I can exhale, she continues.

"But I know you didn't do anything to stop the fall either. You came to my house, got me agitated, and caused me to fall down the stairs. So it's your fault."

The relief evaporates.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have gone there."

"Sorry isn't enough." She picks up her Jell-O again, stabbing at it with the plastic spoon like it's personally offended her.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Come closer, Lucas."

I hesitate, but her eyes lock on mine, challenging me. Against my better judgment, I step forward.

She sniffs the air around me, an action so bizarre I almost step back.

"You smell like chocolate and lavender," she says. "Very different from yesterday. You were with a woman. Your girlfriend. The bitch you sent to me the other day."

I say nothing, my jaw tightening.

"She's not your type, Lucas."

Her words hit a nerve, and my patience snaps. "What the fuck do you want, Sara?"

"You."

The simplicity of her response makes me recoil, disgust rippling through me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She leans forward, her eyes gleaming with something dark and twisted. "Five years ago, I went to prison for something that wasn't my fault. You asked why I took Juan. I took him because he was the key to your heart. Not me. Not anybody else. I tried. I begged. I even sent people to you. You refused to let me come back." "You cheated on me with my friend," I say, my voice rising. "And then you fucking left. I was supposed to let you in because you were sorry?"

""Yeah. We were married."

"And that's supposed to mean anything?"

"Yes, it does. Marriage is sacred."

"Jesus, listen to yourself. I thought prison was for reformation."

"It is," she says, shifting more toward the bed's edge. "It is, Lucas. And that's what I've been thinking about since I woke up. I'm reformed. And I realize I was crazy. Joseph seduced me, and I fell for his charms. I'm not crazy anymore. You're the right one for me, Lucas. And I want you back."

CHAPTER 079: Visitor's Pass

I scoff. "How hard did you hit your head?"

Her expression darkens. "I'm getting you back, one way or another."

"In your dreams, Sara."

She smirks, leaning back against the pillows. "Here's how this is going to work. I get out of bed, ask for a phone, call my parole officer, and tell him I was assaulted by my ex-husband."

"I did no such thing."

"Oh?" She tilts her head, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "But you came to my house late at night, didn't you? You came when I was alone. And then I magically fell down the stairs. Who do you think they're going to believe? The press will be all over this. America's big CEO, charged with assault and attempted murder."

I hate to admit it, but she's right. The optics are terrible. My silence only seems to encourage her.

"Or," she continues, "you could break up with your girlfriend and come back to me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's a simple case, Lucas." Her smile widens, but there's no warmth in it. "If I can't have you, no one else will."

CHAPTER 080: Someone Actually Gets It

I stand there, my body rigid, staring at Sara. There was a time when looking at her made my world stop. I used to lose myself in her gaze, convinced she was my forever. Now? All I see is a desperate girl crying for help.

The longer I remain silent, the more uncomfortable Sara gets. I can see her shifting on the bed, her eyes darting to the door, then back to me. Maybe she expected me to shout lose control, play the part of the ex-husband who still cares enough to fight for her. But that man died the day she betrayed me.

Finally, I speak. "I'll tell you what's going to happen," I say, "I'll pay your hospital bills because that's who I am. I'm generous to the less privileged. After that, I never want to see your face again."

Her eyes widen. For a second, genuine surprise flashes across her face. Then, her lips twist into a smirk, but I can tell she's rattled.

"Did you forget the part where I said you're mine now?" she says.

"I did. And I'm turning down your request."

I can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure out why I'm so calm. She's waiting for me to fall apart, beg, or at least retaliate with anger. But she doesn't realize I'm done playing her games. This is my favorite part of negotiations-the moment the bully realizes they're being bullied.

"It wasn't a request," she says. "You can't turn it down."

""Why not?"

"Because..." Her voice trails off, faltering.

"Listen, Sara." I step closer, lowering my voice. "I'm a very busy man, so let's lay everything out. You just got out of prison. You're an ex-con with almost nothing to your name, going against a man who's on Forbes' list. Do you really want to take your chances against me? Because I'm ready. And from where I stand, it's not looking very good for you."

She shifts in the bed, her fingers tightening around the Jell-O cup like it's a lifeline. "You're just bluffing."

"Call it what you want. But I didn't get where I am today by cowering every time someone waved a lawsuit in my face. You think you can use this hospital stay to blackmail me? You're out of your depth, Sara. This isn't about you and me anymore. It's about your twisted fantasies and your sick need for control. It's over, Sara. I'm done letting you play puppet master with my life."

She narrows her eyes. "You think you can just walk away?"

11

"I'm not thinking. I know." I step back, putting distance between us. "I've played your game long enough. Julie was right-I need to let Juan go. And you? You're nothing but a toxic reminder of everything I've outgrown.

Her face twists with anger. "You need me!"

"No." I shake my head. "I needed you once. But now? Now I just pity you."

Her breathing turns ragged, her fists clenched. "You'll regret this."

I walk to the door, my hand on the handle. "Have a nice life, Sara, and be a better person. You're not a convict anymore."

I turn without looking back, stepping into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind me, and with it, a weight lifts

from

my shoulders. I exhale, my mind already moving past her threats. She'll try something-Sara always does. But for now, I've won this round.

Sebastian, Asher, and Kofi have assembled at my bar, ready to crucify me.

The air in the bar is thick with the scent of whisky, leather, and old wood, mingled with the faint aroma of burnt cigars someone had carelessly left smoldering outside. The low hum of distant jazz music plays over the speakers, setting a mellow backdrop to an otherwise heated conversation. I lean back in my seat, my whisky glass swirling lazily in my hand. Across the table, my three closest friends are tearing into me, each with their own brand of concern, sarcasm, and unsolicited advice. "You shouldn't have gone there, man," Asher says, shaking his head as he sets down his glass. His voice is calm, but-there's an edge to it, one that says, 'You're a dumbass, but I care.

"I know. I've learned my lesson," I say. "It wasn't a proud moment."

"Not proud? You walked into her house, Luke." Asher's eyes widen. "Her house. Alone. At night. After everything she's pulled? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Clearly, he wasn't," Kofi chimes in. He's leaning forward, elbows on the table. "I mean, come on. This is Sara. We're talking full-blown, grade-A psycho ex. And you walked into her lair like a lamb to the slaughter?" He lets out a sharp, derisive laugh. "That's a rookie-level mistake."

"Thanks, Kofi." I take a long sip of whisky, letting the burn settle in my throat. "Really helpful."

"I'm serious!" Kofi throws his hands up. "What were you hoping for? An apology? A reconciliation? Or did you just miss her crazy eyes?"

Asher chuckles, shaking his head. "I can't believe she's still pulling this crap after all this time."

11

• "She's relentless," I admit, rubbing a hand over my face. "But I thought maybe just maybe-she'd changed for the better. Clearly, that was optimistic.

"What exactly did you say to her before she decided to 'accidentally' fall down the stairs?" Kofi asks. "Hi, Sara. Long time no see. How about we relive our greatest hits?""

I glare at him, but before I can retort, Asher cuts in.

"She's a manipulator, man."

"Yeah, well, I didn't push her. She shoved me. Lost her balance. Fell. End of story."

"And yet," Kofi leans in, "here we are."

"You're enjoying this too much," I mutter.

"Someone has to." He leans back, flashing a wicked grin. "Besides, it's not every day I see you in

ay I see you in trouble. You're like the most composed person I know. Allow me to cherish the moment."

Asher groans. "You're impossible, Kofi."

"Thank you." He raises his glass in mock salute. "I try."

Sebastian, who has been uncharacteristically silent, finally lets out a soft sigh. "Kofi," he says. "Shut up for two seconds."

Kofi smirks but obliges, taking a sip of his beer.

""Don't you have something to say to Luke?" Asher asks Sebastian.

Sebastian sets his glass down carefully, the clink against the wood echoing louder than it should. "What do

you

CHAPTER 080. Someone Actualy Gets It

want me to tell him?" He looks up, his dark eyes heavy. "Give him a break. He was grieving his child."

"By pushing his ex-wife down the stairs?" Kofi fires back.

Sebastian's jaw tightens. "He didn't push her. He's said it a thousand times. She shoved him, slipped. Stupid move if you ask me. Has she seen his workout routine?" "Yeah, but he was in her house," Asher says, eyebrows raised.

"And she invited me," I snap. "It wasn't like I broke in with a ski mask and duct tape. You think if she hadn't mentioned Julie's name in that text, I'd go there?"

"Look," Sebastian interjects, his tone brokering no argument. "The deed's done. Luke put her in her place. She won't pull anything-at least not right now." "Are you willing to bet on that?" Asher asks.

"If you ask me," Kofi says, cutting in before Sebastian can answer, "Luke should just apologize."

"Noooo!" Asher and Sebastian say simultaneously, their voices loud.

"Terrible idea," Asher adds. "The moment she sniffs weakness, he's gone."

"She's a psycho," Sebastian mutters, shaking his head.

The table erupts into a chaotic mix of voices, each of them arguing over what I should've done, what I should do now, and how I've royally screwed myself. I watch them, my patience wearing thin.

"Are you all done?" I ask. They stop, turning to me. "What has the jury decided?"

Kofi grins. "That you stay away from women for the rest of your life. You pick the wrong ones."

"Right," I say, dryly. "That, or how many years in prison?"

"Fuck you, Luke," Kofi laughs, shaking his head.

"Look, I know how this sounds," I say, my tone softening. "And I know how you all feel. You're my friends, and I get it. But Julie's divorce trial is coming up in a few days. I don't want anything that will upset her. Sara will be Sara. She might do something crazy, but it'll be after the trial. And that works for me. I might not even be in the country then."

"Where will you be?" Asher asks.

"Getting engaged."

There's a pause. Then Kofi bursts out laughing. "Oh, you sly motherfucker! I bet it'll be all over the news."

"God, no," I groan. "There's a limit to how much attention I can take."

"I feel you." Kofi clinks his glass against mine.

As they laugh and drink, I catch Sebastian watching me. His eyes are unreadable, but there's something there. Finally, I ask, "What is it?"

"You must really love that woman," he says quietly.

"It was never a secret."

Sebastian nods, leaning back in his chair. He doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, but for the first time all night, I feel like someone actually gets it.