All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

AMELIADays passed faster after that conversation with Roman, each hour weighted with unspoken words and promises hanging in the air. His vow to tell me everything in a week's time echoed in my thoughts, competing with the endless questions that plagued my mind. Jessica had been there to witness it all—his promise, my demands, the tentative peace we'd reached. But peace felt hollow when built on secrets.It took me days to finally accept that Roman and I had drifted apart because of these secrets, because of his constant ‘protection’. I was grateful, I really was…but then it also left me feeling useless. After spending so long telling myself I was born longer that weak, docile woman…here I was being molded into one again. I found myself in the kitchen that morning, methodically preparing dinner with ingredients I'd personally selected from the store. Every vegetable I chopped, every spice I measured, had been chosen by my own hands. The ritual of cooking had become both a comfort a

AMELIAThe grand double doors of my father's house loomed before me, its familiar design now seemed more like a joke to me. How many times had I prayed to be out of these walls, no never have a reason to return here yet, herr I was, heat burning with fury. I wanted to burn the place down to the ground, but I knew that would be foolish of me. I inhaled sharply and knocked. Their new butler opened before I could knock a second time, his chilly, aged eyes resting on my figure. “I'm here to see Monica,” I announced, not posing it as a request. I was sure he must have been given some orders regarding my presence here. I knew I didn't belong here anymore…not that I ever did. The butler looked at me silently for a few seconds, like he was weighing his options. I tapped my foot impatiently, I had no intention of taking no for an answer. “Of course, welcome Mrs Wellington,” He finally spoke, stepping aside. The foyer was silent as I entered, my heels clicking against the marble floor wi

AMELIA My hands trembled violently against the leather steering wheel as I weaved through traffic, the car responding to my every desperate movement. The rearview mirror had become my lifeline—every few seconds, my eyes darted to it, watching the sleek black vehicles that seemed to materialize from the shadows like deadly phantoms. My breath came in short, sharp bursts, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my temples. To think I was terrible at driving only a few weeks ago, now that my life was at stake it came naturally. The sharp trill of my phone made me jump. Vincent's name flashed across the screen, and for a moment, lunch plans and normal life seemed like something from another universe entirely. "Vince!" I answered breathlessly, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. "I'm so sorry, but I need to reschedule lunch. Now isn't—" I swerved to avoid one of the black cars cutting too close, my words catching in my throat. "Now isn't a good time." “Wait…wait, slow down,” H

ROMANOur bedroom was silent except for Amelia's steady breathing, her warm body curled trustingly against mine as she slept. I was ashamed to even admit it to myself, I'd tired her out even more. I couldn't help myself, after holding back for so long, it felt like all of my pent up emotions had finally come up to the surface and I couldn't control it. I had forgotten, for a few minutes, all I could think about was the blissful feeling of giving my wife pleasure and having her love me with no walls or tension between us. But now we were here, in bed. The silence was so loud, the sound of her steady breathing was my only companion. The digital clock on the nightstand marked each passing hour with mocking red numbers as sleep continued to elude me. My mind refused to quiet, spinning through possibilities and consequences, weighing options I'd hoped never to consider again.There was the option to give in to everything I felt, let her see everything and leave myself at her mercy. Giv

AMELIA I stared at the door long after Roman had left, my fingers unconsciously tracing the spot on the sheets where his warmth still lingered. The silence in our bedroom felt oppressive now, punctuated only by the steady tick of the clock that seemed to mock each second he stayed away. I kept hoping, foolishly perhaps, that he would turn back – that the door would open and he'd walk in with that crooked smile of his, saying he changed his mind. But the door remained closed, and the distance between us felt like it was growing with each passing moment. I had thought that after yesterday…after what happened, he would have no other choice but to open up, to tell me all of the things he had omitted, to show me that side of him he was too afraid to show. Yesterday, he looked like he wanted to avoid me at all costs, like my presence bothered him so much he wanted to stay away. He was distracted, jumpy and was all too eager to use my body and forget, just like I was with his. I tho