All Chapters of Tuberose: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Jack's POV -Finally, Chloe is my wife. I can't express my gratitude to God for giving me her as my life partner. She is closing her eyes with trembling lips which are surely craving to be smashed by my lips. I follow her wish and it takes minimal time when I find my hands to explore her skin.I squeeze her boobs by moving away from her strapless bra. "Ummph. J-Jack." She releases a sweet moan and I explore her mouth with my tongue. Her erect nipples are being kneaded into my palms and I am grinding her core with mine. The room is turning hotter though the temperature is enough to make anyone cover themselves with blankets.I trail my kisses from her chin to her neck and lead my right hand to her pussy. Once I insert my finger inside her panty, I realize that she is already wet and a smirk appears on my lips. I intake her right nipple in my mouth and keep rubbing her clit to bring her on the edge."Argh, Jack. Just do it already." It's not only me but she is also desperate after a whil

Michael's POV -I speed down the familiar winding road, the trees, and fields a blur of green and brown as I make my way to the farmhouse. I don't want to face my dad right now, not after everything. They were all right – Dad, Jack, everyone – they were all right about Abigail. She didn't cheat on me, and I didn't listen to anyone.I glance at my phone and see Abigail's photo. I reach out and touch it as if I can somehow reach through the screen and find her, asking for her forgiveness. My throat tightens, and I can feel the lump building as I recall the things I've said and done to her. I called her terrible names – slut, whore, prostitute, escort – and for what? Because I let my insecurities and doubts get the best of me.And then there's the unforgivable act, the one that haunts me the most. I pushed her, physically pushed her, and it led to the loss of our unborn child. I can't keep calling it an accident. I can't keep pretending that I wasn't responsible. I killed our baby.I pull

Michael's POV -Five days have passed since Dad's discharge from the hospital. During those days, I had the chance to see Abigail when she visited him. Each fleeting moment with her was like a bittersweet taste of the past, a reminder of what I had lost. Now, those moments would be gone, and I couldn't bring myself to reach out to her.After dinner, I find myself drawn to Abigail's study table, surrounded by all the things she loves. I had kept her favorite items here for all these months, a silent tribute to the love I had allowed to slip away. I touch each item with a mixture of love and regret as if by doing so, I can somehow turn back time.Unable to sign the divorce papers, I open a drawer and discover a collection of diaries, each one engraved with a number, from 1 to 9. Abigail's diaries, I assume. It feels wrong to invade her privacy, but a longing to understand her more fully overcomes me.The diary opens to a page when she was just eight years old. Her words paint a picture o

Michael's POV -Chloe's response is like an icy dagger to my heart. "She's better, as I told you earlier, don't worry." Her tone is distant, and I can feel the weight of their collective resentment pressing down on me. It's a burden I've earned through my own actions, and honestly, it's one I share.Desperation seizes me, and I can't help but plead with Chloe, "Can I see her for once?"Her gaze doesn't meet mine as she twirls her fork through a plate of noodles. "No, you can't. No one can go in there. I've only seen her through video calls. After all these months, I saw her for the first time at my wedding, and then it was because of Uncle's medical reasons."I'm filled with an overwhelming urge to connect with Abigail, to see her face, to hear her voice, even if it's just through a screen. "Then call her, please. I won't come in front of the camera. I just want to see her for once. And whoever is with her, can you ask them to massage her thighs? It might make her feel better." My voic

Abigail's POV -The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I slowly open my eyes, my body aching with fatigue. The throbbing pain in my head still lingers, a constant reminder of the torment I've endured.As I shift in bed, I'm greeted by an unexpected sensation—a familiar fragrance that dances in the air around me. My heart skips a beat as I inhale deeply, recognizing that unique scent.Mick?For a moment, I allow myself to believe the impossible. Could he really be here, standing beside me? Is it possible that he's had a change of heart, that he regrets the harsh words he hurled at me, the accusations that tore us apart?But then reality crashes in like a tidal wave, washing away my fragile hope. How can Mick be here, when it was he who alleged me to be a whore? When it was he who asked for the separation, who shattered my world with his accusation of betrayal?The memories of that painful night flood back, each word he spoke piercing my hear