All Chapters of The Wife Swap: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

Andreas's POVThe white ceiling above me was a far cry from the view I’d have preferred to have right now, but with the quiet hum of the machines beside me and the steady rhythm of my own heartbeat in my ears, I felt something I hadn’t in years: gratitude.I wasn’t worried about the board meeting. Annabelle had everything under control, and I trusted her to handle Adam especially because even before my unexpected surgery, I’d known what would happen and had prepared for this kind of situation, having it at the back of mind that surgery was an inevitable outcome. Things had just happened faster than I had anticipated. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t consumed by the pressures of Thorne Enterprises. Instead, I was thinking about Ashley—her face when I opened my eyes, the way she clutched my hand like it was a lifeline. I thought about Annabelle too, her immediate agreement when I’d gone to her weeks ago about my heart condition and wanted to transfer my shares to h

Ashley’s POVThe day of Ashton’s burial was a blur of emotions. Grief, yes—I had expected that. But there was also relief, anger, hope, and a strange sense of peace that I couldn’t quite place.The small ceremony was held in a quiet corner of the Thorne estate, under a canopy of trees that Ashton would’ve loved. The turnout was larger than I’d anticipated. It wasn’t just family, though the Thorne family was represented in some way, with Andreas and Annabelle by my side. Workers from the gallery had come too, some of them tearfully recalling stories of Ashton’s quick wit and unmatched dedication to her work. Liv had been by my side the entire time and Faye had managed to track down a few close friends, and seeing their faces filled me with gratitude.Of course, Adam and Amarinth were nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t expected them to come, nor did I want them there. Thomas was absent too, but Sansa had made an appearance. I couldn’t help but notice how much lighter she seemed, almost radian

Andreas’s POVThe glass of whiskey sat in front of me, untouched, and I stared at it without really seeing it, my mind preoccupied with the words Ashley had left me with, the ones that echoed in my head like an unwanted refrain. “You deserve someone who fits seamlessly into your life, not someone who makes you choose.”For the first time, I questioned everything I had built. I had spent years constructing a life that was logical, pragmatic—a life that adhered to the rules of the world I was born into. A life where love was a luxury, something I could never afford. I married Ashton, not out of love, but because it was expected of me and I had wanted someone who wouldn’t be my father’s pawn. The contract was simple, clean, and it served its purpose. I chose the company over everything else, convincing myself that reputation, power, and control were all that mattered. I never allowed myself to truly love, not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. My heart, damaged by a condit

Ashley’s POVThe room was quiet, save for the hum of the heater, a soft background noise that reminded me that I was no longer at the mansion. I sat at the small desk in the corner of my now shared apartment with Liv, staring at the blank page of my journal. The pen in my hand felt foreign, like I was holding someone else’s tool, meant for someone else’s purpose.It had been weeks since I left Andreas, though it still felt like I was living in the aftermath of that decision. The pain was still there, a constant presence in the pit of my stomach, but there was something else, too—a strange, bittersweet peace. I was no longer just pretending. I wasn’t living in the shadow of Ashton’s life, her successes, her untimely death. I was just... me.I shifted in the chair, pulling my knees up to my chest as I let my gaze drift out the window. The lights of the city twinkled below, but the sky above was dark, as though it mirrored the way I still felt inside. Despite the nights I cried myself to

Ashley’s POVA Year LaterThe air was crisp, but the sun cast a warm, golden glow over the gravesite. I sat on the bench near Ashton’s tombstone, the scent of fresh flowers mixing with the earthy smell of the cemetery. In my hands, I held a bouquet of bright flowers and a box of cookies—the kind we used to love as kids.I arranged them carefully at the base of the stone, each movement slow, deliberate. I knew Ashton wasn’t really here, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still with me—somewhere, somehow. Sometimes, I liked to think she could hear me, or at least, feel my presence. So, I began speaking aloud, as if she were sitting right beside me, just like when we were younger, chatting about everything and nothing at all.“It’s been an eventful year, Ash,” I murmured, feeling the weight of the words as I spoke them. “I guess you know that already, but I still need to say it. I’ve been doing a lot of things I never thought I’d do.”I paused, looking out at the rows of grave