All Chapters of My Substitute Husband Regrets Letting Me Go: Chapter 61 - Chapter 65

Emma's POVThe chilly night air hit me like a slap as soon as I left the venue, but it was insufficient to quench the scalding embarrassment that was creeping up my spine. Even though the crowd's whispers were muffled by my pounding heart, I could still feel their eyes on me as they scrutinized, questioned, and dissected me as though I were just tonight's gossip.My skin felt hot, and I felt like I was turning red by the second.Like a caged bird yearning for escape, my heart pounded against my ribs as I sped through the sea of people. My throat tightened as I resisted the bile that was rising in my stomach, and I breathed in short gasps. With every hurried step, my elegant heels dug into my skin, but I didn't mind. All I had to do was leave.With a creak, the bathroom door opened, and I staggered inside, holding on to the cool porcelain sink for balance. I felt my stomach heave and twist furiously, but nothing came out. Just gut-wrenching, empty convulsions that left me gasping for a

Sebastian’s POVThere was a heavy, oppressive silence in Alex's office. It was clear from his reluctance that he was concealing something. I leaned forward and spoke in a steady, low voice. "Alex, please tell me the truth." Alex rubbed his temples and let out a short exhale before looking up at me. He hesitated out of remorse, not merely reluctance. Finally, in a tight voice, he stated, "There are things you don't understand." I sat back and scoffed. "Then explain things to me." I was becoming impatient. Since I arrived, you have been evading my queries. The procedure was discussed first, and now this. To Emma, who was Matthew? And why did she go? Alex's mouth clenched. Before he finally let out a breath, his shoulders slumped as though the truth was too much for him to bear any longer, his fingers drumming against the surface. "I've always harboured affections for Emma." It was an insult to the face. My nails dug into my hands as my fingers balled into fists. "What

Emma’s POV The airport buzzed with activity, a chaotic mixture of hurried footsteps, muffled announcements, and the odd crying child. The air smelled of strong coffee and the remaining scent of floor polish. People moved past me, their faces varying—excitement, exhaustion, indifference. But I barely noticed them. I stood near my boarding gate, my suitcase beside me, my hands holding the handle so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. The weight in my chest got heavier with each passing second. I told myself I wasn’t hesitant, that I wasn’t waiting for something—or someone—to stop me. But deep down, I wasn’t sure if that was true. This is it, I thought, looking at the digital sign above the gate. A new start. Paris. A city of art, a city of dreams. A place where no one knew me, where I could shed the weight of my past and finally move on. Beside me, Abigail nudged my shoulder. “You sure about this?” she asked, her voice laced with worry. I forced a small smile. “I