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 8
SELENE
There are questions you prepare for, and then there are the ones that steal your breath.
"Is that what you're curious about?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain light.
"Yes." Sebastian nodded, his eyes never leaving my face, waiting patiently, expectantly for an answer.
He wasn't joking. That much was clear. The seriousness in his gaze made my chest tighten.
"Well..." I began, choosing my words carefully. "We both agreed not to rush things. Raising children isn't something you decide on in a day." It was the most believable excuse I could summon.
He fell silent, turning the thought over in his mind. Each second stretched, my nerves coiling tighter. I watched his face, searching for any sign that he didn't believe me.
Then he nodded. "That makes sense."
Only then did I realize I'd been holding my breath. I let it out slowly.
"Still," he added, a faint smile touching his lips, "it would be nice to have children around."
I squinted at him. I'd never imagined Sebastian as someone who liked children. Apparently, there were many things about him I'd never known, or never been allowed to see.
"Should we head back to your room?" I asked quickly, steering the conversation away before it could dig any deeper.
"Already sending me to bed?" He teased, pushing himself up from the bench as he glanced at me. "You're surprisingly bossy for someone who looks this gentle."
My eyes widened. "When have I ever been bossy?"
He arched a brow. "Saying we should head back to my room right after I bring up kids sounds a lot like you shutting down the conversation."
I snorted. "I offered it as a suggestion, not a command."
"And you also stole my phone," he added lightly, folding his arms. "While blaming it on the doctor."
"That- that was..." I faltered, scrambling for an excuse that refused to come.
He smiled, clearly amused. "Exactly. No excuse."
I looked away, my lips twitching despite myself. "Let's just go back to your room."
He chuckled, nodding easily. "Okay. Lead the way."
Then, softer, almost absentmindedly, he went on. "I feel better when you're around anyway."
The words struck straight through my chest. Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Like it had always been true. Like I had always been his comfort.
I stood and started forward, but before I could take a step, his hand closed around mine.
I stiffened, then looked up at him.
"So you don't disappear again." He murmured, threading his fingers through mine.
I'd lost count of how many times my heart had fluttered today. At this rate, I might develop a heart condition just trying to keep up with it.
Was it wrong to admit that I loved the feel of his hand in mine? The way his thumb brushed softly over my skin. Was this what I had been missing all along?
Maybe... just maybe... I owed amnesia a quiet thank-you for this moment.
Just before we reached the next block leading to his ward, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I paused, fished it out, and sighed when I saw the caller ID.
Ashley.
I answered while Sebastian watched me with quiet curiosity.
"Give me a second, we're almost there." I murmured into the phone, then ended the call.
"My assistant is here." I explained when his gaze lingered on me.
We turned the corner and found Ashley standing outside his ward, two takeaway boxes balanced carefully in her hands. She brightened the moment she spotted us.
"Hope I didn't keep you waiting?" I asked, gently slipping my hand free from Sebastian's as I walked toward her.
"No, I just arrived." She assured me, her eyes flicking briefly to him before returning to me.
I glanced back at Sebastian. "Can you wait inside for me?"
He nodded and stepped into the ward without question.
The moment he was gone, Ashley studied my face. "Are you okay?" She asked softly, passing the boxes to me.
I accepted them with a quiet sigh. "I don't know."
Ashley had been my classmate before she became my assistant, my constant, my safe place. She knew the history of my life, the parts I rarely let anyone see. But she didn't know about the divorce I had been planning. She didn't know about the amnesia either.
"You two look... close." She observed carefully, exactly as I'd expected.
I offered a small, guarded smile. "A lot happened."
She looped her arm through mine. "You'll tell me everything."
"I will." I promised gently. "Just not now."
She pressed her lips together, resigned. "Alright. Later." Then she exhaled. "Work's been hectic without you."
"I heard you've been doing great holding things together." I told her.
Her brow lifted. "Who told you that? They lied."
I laughed despite myself.
"Well," she said, stepping back, "take care of yourself."
"You too." I replied.
She waved as she walked away, and I watched her go, grateful for her presence, and dreading the explanations that would come later.
With the takeaway boxes clutched in my hands, I made my way back to Sebastian's ward. He was standing by the window when I stepped in, his attention fixed on the view outside, as though he was lost in thought.
He turned the moment he sensed me. "Are you done talking to your assistant?"
"Yeah." I murmured, setting the boxes down on the small table. "You must be hungry."
"Not really." His reply was flat, almost distracted. Then his gaze flicked to me. "Are you hungry?"
"Well..." I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly unsure of myself. "I haven't really eaten anything today."
"Then you should eat." He finally left the window and crossed the room. "I'll just take a bite." He added lightly, lowering himself onto the couch.
I let out a small laugh and sat beside him, lifting the lids off the takeaway boxes.
Inside the takeaway boxes were portions of pasta coated in a rich tomato sauce, slices of grilled chicken resting neatly on top. The warmth seeped through the containers, carrying a comforting aroma that made my stomach twist.
"Do you prefer pasta with cream sauce or tomato sauce?" I asked. We'd never really eaten together before, never shared something as simple as a meal, so I had no idea what he liked or didn't.
"I think I prefer tomato sauce."
I let out a small sigh of relief. "Me too."
I handed him a fork from the box, and we began eating in a quiet, companionable silence.
"This is really tasty." He said, taking another bite. Then another.
I'd thought he said he would only have a bite. Not that I minded, but the thought made a laugh slip out before I could stop it.
He turned toward me, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Why are you laughing?"
"You said you'd just take a bite." I murmured, keeping my eyes on my food. "You've taken more than six."
He snorted, wrinkling his nose at me. "It's not my fault the food tastes good." He dropped his fork and straightened slightly.
"Oh-no, I didn't mean for you to stop." I said quickly, panic fluttering in my chest. "You can keep eating."
But his attention had already shifted.
"I'm more curious about why you're barely eating." He said, his gaze steady on me.
I tightened my grip on the fork, as though it might anchor me. There was something about the way those honey-colored eyes looked at me that made my breath catch.
"I..." I swallowed. "I don't really have the appetite."
"But you said you were hungry."
"I know." I said softly, feeling a knot of nerves in my chest. How could I explain that sitting this close to him, sharing a meal like this, made my heart race and my stomach flutter all at once? "I'm hungry, but I don't have the appetite to eat. Does that make sense?"
A smoky glint passed through his eyes, sending warmth rushing to my cheeks.
"No." He said simply.
Yet he didn't look away.
I let out a breathless laugh, the hairs at the back of my neck prickling. "I figured it wouldn't."
Then he spoke again, his voice low and unexpected.
"Would you have an appetite if I feed you?"
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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.