The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice
"Do you enjoy this? Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?"
After three years of a cold, loveless marriage, Selene Henderson finally gathers the courage to walk away from her distant billionaire husband, Sebastian Kingsley.
She's ready to file for divorce... until a tragic accident changes everything.
When Sebastian wakes up with no memory of the woman he once pushed away, Selene finds herself trapped in a marriage she was desperate to escape, this time with a man who suddenly looks at her like she's his whole world.
But can love born from broken memories survive the truth of their painful past?
Or will the secrets she's been hiding destroy them all over again?
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Chapter 1
At 3 a.m., my husband remembered where he lived, and I remembered why I had stopped hoping.
SELENE
Beep... Beep... Beep...
My hands froze on the refrigerator handle.
For a moment, I just stood there, heart stuttering at the sharp sound of the door code being entered incorrectly. The living room was dim, shadows stretching lazily across the walls as I squinted toward the wall clock.
3:00 a.m.
Beep... Beep... Beep...
The sound came again, more frantic this time. I heard muffled curses from the other side of the door, metal clinking as someone fumbled aggressively with the keypad.
I closed the fridge slowly and stepped away from it, my fingers curling around the hem of my nightdress. My chest tightened, not with fear, but with a dull, familiar resignation.
The lock finally clicked.
The door creaked open.
I took a step back and quickly turned on the light.
Sebastian stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, one hand braced against the doorframe as he muttered under his breath. He tugged at his tie, struggling to loosen it.
He was drunk.
And I wasn't shocked. Not even a little.
Sebastian Kingsley only remembered this house when he was drunk. Sober, it didn't exist to him.
You might wonder why I didn't panic at the strange sound of someone failing my door code in the middle of the night. The truth was simple, he was the only one who ever came here at odd hours.
We've been married for three years, yet sometimes I forgot I was even a wife. Sebastian hated my presence and barely lived in this house. We were not a loving, doting couple. There were no late-night conversations, no shared routines, no warmth between us.
If it hadn't been for our families arranging this marriage, Sebastian wouldn't have looked at me twice.
And now, here he was, stumbling into the home he refused to acknowledge as his, wearing the ring that bound us both, yet living a life that never included me.
He rolled his eyes the moment he caught sight of me, teetering unsteadily toward my direction.
"Why is it always so bright in this house?" His words were slurred, each one dragging lazily from his lips. He ran a hand through his messy hair, fingers tangling in the strands. "Can't a man come in without a spotlight?"
"I... I can turn it off if you don't like it." I managed to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands hovered near the switch, unsure whether to actually obey.
Sebastian glanced at me, eyes half-lidded, then pushed past me with one careless hand. I stumbled slightly, my chest clenching as my foot caught the edge of the rug, but I didn't protest. He wasn't aggressive. He was just too drunk to notice the ripple of imbalance he left in his wake.
"Ah..." He sighed, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic thud. One hand fell to his forehead, the other draped loosely over the armrest. His eyes were closed, and suddenly, the room felt heavy with his presence.
I stayed rooted in place, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, knuckles whitening, before finally turning toward my room.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
With a quiet sigh, I opened the closet and pulled out a neatly folded blanket. For a moment, I just stood there, the fabric warm against my palms, and I paused.
It was ridiculous, wasn't it? That I still cared for him after everything. After the cold stares, the dismissive words. The way he made it clear, from the very beginning, that I was never meant to matter.
I remembered his voice clearly, cutting through whatever hope I had on the night we married.
"I married you because it was arranged. Don't mistake that for affection. Keep your distance, or you'll only hurt yourself."
And yet... here I was, hesitating, lingering over a small act of kindness I knew he didn't deserve.
I sighed softly, and returned to the living room. He lay on the couch, sprawled in careless disarray.
Carefully, I approached, crouching low to tug off his shoes. He stirred in his sleep, kicking slightly at me, but I remained still, placing the shoes neatly on the floor. I draped the blanket over him with careful fingers, tucking it around his shoulders as gently as I could.
My hands lingered on the fabric as I crouched again, studying his face.
Sleep softened his features, but even like this, Sebastian Kingsley was devastatingly handsome.
He was the kind of man who drew attention without trying. The youngest billionaire in the country. The sole heir to Kingsley Group. A man with everything.
Everything except me.
I had watched him with countless women, watched him chase them even after our marriage.
He let out a low, sleepy moan. His hand reached up to ruffle through his hair, and my gaze inevitably drifted to our wedding ring glinting on his finger. What purpose did it serve, I wondered, if he never acknowledged the bond it represented?
I pulled my eyes away from the ring, feeling a sharp pang of regret in my chest. Why had I even bothered to drape him with a blanket? My hands felt foolish, heavy with all the hope I had been holding onto for three years.
I took a tentative step back, ready to retreat, when his hand clamped firmly around mine.
I gasped, startled, and looked down at him. His eyes were still closed. My instincts screamed at me to pull away, but before I could move, he tugged me toward him. I stumbled, falling to the couch beside him.
Another gasp escaped me as he shifted, turning so that our faces were barely an inch apart. His warm breath brushed against my cheek, his lips so close I could feel the faint heat of them. My cheeks burned, a bright, helpless red. Three years of marriage, and I had never been this close to him.
I should have pulled away.
I should have stood.
I should have...
But my thoughts died when his eyes fluttered open.
"I... I..." I scrambled for words, panic rising in my chest. He might think I tried to take advantage of him. My lips parted, ready to protest. "I didn't-"
The words vanished as he lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. There was no anger in his gaze, no accusation. Only... focus. Only attention.
"You're pretty."
My heart stuttered violently, as if it had forgotten how to beat. Had Sebastian just... called me pretty?
Before I could process it, his lips brushed against mine in a soft, fleeting kiss. My entire body froze. I was beyond stunned.
"I don't know what I'd do without you... Irene."
My chest collapsed.
Irene.
Not Selene.
Not me.
My lips trembled as the truth settled in.
Right. Of course. There was never a chance this tenderness belonged to me.
I pulled away carefully and rose from the couch, as if any sound might shatter what little dignity I had left.
After three years, I should have known better than to hope.
Because no matter what I did...
I would always remain invisible to him.
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9.5
On the day she discovers she is pregnant, Amara is handed divorce papers by the man she loved for three years. Betrayed by her husband and her best friend, she walks away with nothing-except the secret growing inside her.
But what Ethan Cole doesn't know is that the woman he abandoned is not weak... and not alone.
When Amara returns as a powerful heiress, no longer the woman he could control, Ethan begins to regret everything. But as secrets unravel and the truth about her pregnancy comes closer to light, one question remains-
When he finally finds out the child is his... will it already be too late?
7.3
Eloise was the untouchable Brandt family heiress, just one audition away from landing a lead movie role and escaping her golden cage.
But overnight, her family's empire completely collapsed.
With her father dying of heart failure, her mother forced her to beg the only man who could save them: Christian Clarke.
Christian was the ruthless billionaire who had publicly humiliated Eloise in college, ripping up her love letter in front of a laughing crowd.
Now, he tossed a fifty-million-dollar acquisition contract on the table.
"What exactly is the Brandt heiress putting up for sale today?"
To secure her father's medical care, Eloise was forced to sign a suffocating marriage contract, selling herself as a corporate tax shield.
He moved her into his freezing penthouse and treated her like a purchased asset. He mocked her attempts to cook him dinner, yet pinned her against the wall with punishing, possessive kisses whenever she tried to pull away.
Eloise's pride was entirely shattered.
She didn't understand why he was doing this. If he hated her so much and only wanted revenge, why did his touch carry such an agonizing, desperate heat?
Determined to survive, she went to her final audition and miraculously won the lead role, crying tears of joy because she had finally earned something on her own.
She had no idea that the cold-blooded monster sleeping beside her had just secretly threatened to destroy all of Hollywood to give it to her.
9.5
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept.
For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage.
One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child.
I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius.
Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me.
The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future.
8.8
I was the despised adopted daughter of the Sanders family, hiding behind heavy gothic makeup and enduring their daily disgust.
The day my adoptive father died in a severe car crash, my adoptive mother and stepsister didn't even bother to call me.
Instead, while his body was still warm, my mother filed a multi-million dollar life insurance claim.
"I am not feeding a useless freak for another day. Pack your trash and get out."
She kicked me out into the freezing rain, but that wasn't the worst of it.
My stepsister Cornelia stole my greatest secret. Five years ago, I saved the life of Fidel Vaughan, a ruthless billionaire heir, from a burning estate.
Cornelia claimed my identity, accepted a million-dollar reward, and secured a marriage proposal from him, burning my only proof to ashes.
They thought I was just a helpless, pathetic high schooler they could discard and replace.
But when I hacked the police files, I discovered my father's crash wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit, and the Vaughan Group had hijacked the traffic cameras to cover it up.
I washed off the ugly black makeup, shedding the disguise of a pathetic outcast.
I am Spectre, the world's most elusive hacker and underground doctor.
I intercepted the billionaire heir's heavily armed convoy in the dead of night. They thought they could steal my life and murder my father, but now, I hold the needle that controls Fidel Vaughan's sanity, and I will make them all pay.
9.1
Isabella thought she had the perfect life as the wealthy Conrad family heiress, complete with a loving childhood sweetheart.
Until she woke up drugged in a hotel bed, blinded by paparazzi flashes, as her fiancé pointed a shaking finger at her, screaming that she had drugged and seduced him.
"She threatened to ruin Kaylie if I didn't sleep with her!" he yelled to the cameras.
Kaylie, the newly discovered biological daughter, stood in the doorway weeping perfectly.
Within hours, Isabella's adoptive father publicly severed all ties, froze her assets, and kicked her out into a violent thunderstorm.
Fleeing the city, her car's brakes suddenly failed.
As Isabella lay dying in the crushed metal of her Porsche, Kaylie strolled up with a pristine umbrella and a genuine smile.
"The mechanic was quite expensive, but cutting the brake lines was worth every penny," Kaylie laughed.
Isabella coughed up blood, her heart turning to ice. Her twenty years of family, love, and loyalty had been nothing but a cruel joke, destroyed by a calculated frame-up.
She died suffocating on absolute betrayal and unadulterated hatred.
Then, she gasped for air.
She wasn't dead. She was sitting in the driver's seat of her car, staring at her flawless reflection in the rearview mirror.
It was exactly four years ago—the day the real heiress first arrived.
A chilling smirk curled the corner of Isabella's mouth. This time, she was going to rip their lives apart from the inside out.
8.0
She has thirty days. Ten billion dollars. And a quantum space that can swallow anything.
Kinsey Elliott died cold, starving, and betrayed—pushed into a frozen abyss by the uncle who stole her fortune.
Then she woke up.
Back in her penthouse. Back in her perfect body. Back with a silver mark on her wrist that lets her store entire warehouses of supplies in a dimension where time stands still.
The world has thirty days until a global ice age freezes everything.
Her family has thirty days to try to lock her away, steal her money, and have her killed.
And Kinsey? She has thirty days to turn ten billion dollars into an invisible fortress—and burn every last one of them to the ground.
She's not surviving the apocalypse.
She's building it.