All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

When I woke up, the world reassembled itself in soft, sterile white and cream. The familiar antiseptic smell. The rhythmic, almost musical beeping of medical equipment creating a strange symphony that sobered me up completely. I was in a hospital, a rather spacious room from what I could see. My entire body felt like it didn't belong to me, except for my eyes that took in every detail of my surroundings. And Roman.He looked tired. Beyond exhaustion.There were dark circles beneath his eyes and an unusual slump of his shoulders. His blue eyes looked dull, pain filled as he stared down at his hand. His hair was disheveled, as though he had been running his fingers through it repeatedly.His hand was wrapped around mine. Not just holding. Clutching. As though I might disappear if he were to let go.Seeing him in that state made my heart ache. How long had he been by my side? How long have I been here? "Roman," I rasped, my voice was hoarse, like I'd swallowed a fucking frog.His r

AMELIAThe hospital room seemed deathly quiet yet at the same time a certain kind of tension rose slowly as Jessica finally left the room, leaving only Roman and me. I watched as he fiddled, with the image from the scan and then sometimes my fingers, looking he intended to say something but yet kept deciding against it. I studied him carefully. The past hours had etched themselves into his face – deep lines around his eyes that hadn't existed before, a slight tremor in his usually rock-steady hands, the way his shoulders carried an invisible weight that seemed to press down on him with relentless gravity. He looked both familiar and foreign – my husband, yet someone I was still struggling to completely understand.He had a past. An entire life that I knew nothing about and I knew he intended to keep it that way because he feared what my reaction would be… I got a bit of an idea of what his life would've been like. Lonely. A child sent by a parent to assume a responsibility he was

MARCUSWhat is a man without a craft? Without a passion? Without a purpose? I spent the first half of my life roaming endlessly, doing what was expected of me, doing everything a good son would do for parents as expectant as mine.A diploma, a degree, a doctorate, a phd, whatever the fuck i could achieve just to get them satisfied. It was never enough, they always wanted more, always thought I was capable of more.Then they died and i realized…fuck them!And the rest of the world thinks they can dictate the fate of a man like me. One capable of everything and so much…On the day i put those two fuckers in the ground, that was when i met her…Amelia Grayson.She didn't know who I was before she approached me, offering an umbrella I didn't even need at the time. I was enjoying the rain soaking me thoroughly but the second she offered, I realized that was the first time someone had offered something to me without asking for something else in return.Just plain kindness.I was enraptu

The warmth of Roman's lips lingered on mine as he finally decided to leave. His fingers traced the curve of my cheek, his touch so gentle it almost felt like a whisper against my skin. I watched him, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and that inexplicable fear that I couldn't quite shake.Everything else had faded into nothingness yet at the same time so much was at stake. "I've become more romantic these days, haven't I?" he said, a playful glint dancing in his blue eyes. The morning sunlight cascaded through our living room windows, casting a soft golden hue across his chiseled features.I couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, bubbling sound that surprised even myself. "More romantic? You've always been romantic, Roman. Just with a different... intensity." I replied with a chuckle, reaching for his stray strands and smoothing them over. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and deep, filling our spacious living room. "Different intensity? What does that even mean

ROMAN“We've been unable to trace the number, sir.” Came the second disappointing reply for the day, from the one hacker Dimitri trusted enough to get the job done. My grip on my phone tightened as I struggled to rein in my emotions, my frustration almost spilling over. I was sick and tired of not getting fucking results. Of sitting behind a desk and waiting rather than taking every fucking action myself! Yet. I inhaled sharply and nodded though I knew the hacker couldn't see me. “Keep trying, Mr Fred,” I pressed, “If you succeed, I will triple whatever it was Dimitri offered to pay you,” I assured confidently. Money was not the problem, getting the location of that number was what was important. “Are you sure? My fees are quite high,” The man on the other line said, yet I could hear his resolve wavering. He was willing to do it, that much I knew. “Don't worry about that and just do what you're being paid to do,” Then I ended the call and resisted the urge to slam the phone h