All Chapters of The Forgotten Marriage: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The drive back to Roman's mansion was quiet, save for the soft classical music playing in Vincent's car. My mind was a ballroom of thoughts and emotions, all centering around the man I I knew I shouldn't be thinking about. Still, somehow after my trip o had come to realize just how much I had spiraled. I do not know who I become when I'm around Roman. The memories, they were blending into one, confusing the fuck out of me but being out after what had happened. Speaking with Vincent…made me realize that I was forgetting who I was. Vincent, probably sensing my mood, didn't push for conversation, and I was grateful for his understanding. As we pulled up to the gates, I felt a knot form in my stomach. What would I say to Roman? I had questions, and this time I will not be distracted by those lips…or those blue orbs that seemed to see through all of my thoughts. The questions swirled in my head, making me dizzy with anticipation and dread. "Thank you for today, Vincent,

Vincent didn't tell me much about his family, only that he had a few sisters and a mother who nagged him all the time about making friends and such. He said it was a small family gathering, nothing too big so I dressed semi-casual. It was a simple dress. I stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the straps of my sundress. It was a simple thing, light blue and perfect for the warm weather. As I ran my fingers through my hair, I realized it had grown longer than I liked. It now fell past my shoulders in black waves. I made a mental note to visit the salon soon to get a proper trim and maybe a new color. The last thing I wanted was to look like the woman I woke up as, sure she was me…but I will never be her. My stomach churned with nerves. I was meeting Vincent's family today, and I had no clue what to expect. I barely made proper friends when I was younger, not to talk of meeting their family. Maybe I was making it seem more dramatic than it should've been but I really

I wasn't sure what I expected, but a small two story house that seemed to be a few years old wasn't it. I half expected Vincent's home to be as extravagant as the mansion he lived in. The man was loaded. As we approached the simple wooden door in front of us, I wiped my clammy palms against the side of my dress a few times. Vincent knocked on the front door without hesitation, and I held my breath, clutching the gift for his mother tightly. The door swung open, revealing a petite woman that seemed to be in her early fifties with a beautiful face that bore a striking resemblance to Vincent. It was like looking at the female, older version of Vincent. Her eyes lit up when she saw us, a warm smile spreading across her face. "You must be Amelia," she exclaimed with a wide grin, her gaze merely brushing with her son's. "Come in, come in!” she gestured us in. Then she turned to look at Vincent with a glare, “Vincent, you're late as usual," she swatted his arm making him flin

As I approached my father's study, my heart raced. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if my body was fighting against my decision to come here. I paused at the door, taking a deep breath to steady myself before knocking. It took a few seconds. I'd even taken a step back in those short moments, I intended to leave. To gather myself properly before facing him. "Come in," my father's stern voice called out. My back went rigid when I heard that familiar voice. I felt a ghost of pain across my skin, almost like my body was reminding me what happened whenever I went against him. I'm a grown ass woman for crying out loud! Why should I be afraid of him? I pushed the door open, and immediately regretted my decision to come. There, behind his imposing desk, sat my father, his face set in its usual disapproving frown. But it wasn't just him. Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. I saw Monica and Bertha seated in plush armchairs, their eyes fixed on me with unconceal

AMELIAEverything else that came after meeting with Roman in front of the room was hazy. I knew he had led me to bed, my eyes heavy with as I kept telling him to promise. All I could think about was the fact that if he owned Grayson, I wouldn't have to give my shares to Bertha. It would be better if he owned everything…it would be so much better. Then I could buy my mother's gallery, before Hector Grayson would do anything foolish like stay true to his threats. My mind was a swirl of countless thoughts as I tried to convince myself that it would be okay. Roman had promised me. “Rome?” The memory pushed itself past whatever barrier my mind had held up, seeping through the cracks. I was in an apartment. Aching all over, I was recovering from an injury…a few. And…Roman was seated opposite me, hair blond, eyes bluer than ever, familiar and softer than I'd ever seen them. He looked younger but his eyes were strange, there was a certain edge to them. He screamed danger even fr