His HOT wife

Chapter Twenty-Six: Valid feelings

Loraine's POV

​The ride home was an exercise in suffocating silence.

​Drey sat beside me, his hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road. The adrenaline from the restaurant-the sheer, electric rush of watching him witness me dismantle his family's pride-was beginning to fade, replaced by a cold, nagging clarity.

​I looked at him.

Really looked at him.

​It had been ten months since that night at our engagement party.

Ten months since I'd caught them, since the foundation of my life had been incinerated in an instant.

My mind drifted through the timeline of the pain: the initial, raw shock, the months of being a "hollow mess" as I'd called it, and the slow, grueling rebirth I'd forced upon myself.

​Ten months was such a short time in the grand scheme of a life, yet it felt like a lifetime of trauma.

Was it really enough time to wipe the slate clean?

​No, I thought, my resolve hardening. It's not.

​I looked down at my hands. They were steady, but the heart beating beneath the emerald silk of my gown felt bruised, still raw from the infection of his betrayal.

Drey was trying-he was making grand gestures,
he was acting like the man I thought I'd married.

But every time I saw his face, I didn't just see the man beside me; I saw the man who had traded our future for a moment of weakness with Angelica.

​He pulled into our driveway and cut the engine.
He didn't move to open my door.

He just sat there, waiting, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

​"Loraine," he started, his voice barely a murmur.

​"Don't," I said, opening the door myself and stepping out into the cool night air.

​He caught up to me before I reached the foyer. He didn't grab me, didn't try to pull me into his arms. He just stood close, giving me space, respecting a boundary I hadn't even had to set.

​"I know what you're thinking," he said, his eyes searching mine.

"You're wondering if this is another act. You're wondering if I'm just playing the part of the redeemed husband."

​"Are you?" I challenged, turning to face him.

The porch light cast shadows across his face, making him look tired.

​"I'm a man who finally understands what he lost," he said hoarsely.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness tonight. I'm not even asking for a clean slate. I'm just... I'm here."

​I walked past him into the house, my heels clicking sharply against the floor.

I didn't stop until I reached the living room, where the silence of the mansion felt heavier than ever.

​Ten months, I mused, leaning against the fireplace.

​I thought about Nikki's confession.

I thought about the way Drey had looked at me in the restaurant-not with lust, but with something dangerously like reverence.

It was seductive.

It was intoxicating.

But it was also the most dangerous thing he'd ever done to me.

If I gave in now, if I allowed myself to believe he was truly the man he claimed to be, I wouldn't just be forgiving him-I'd be erasing the very thing that had made me strong enough to survive him.

​My hurt was valid.

My betrayal was a scar that hadn't even finished healing.

​I looked up to see Drey standing in the doorway, watching me. He didn't approach. He waited.

​"You think you can win me back with dinner and a fight with your sister," I said, my voice quiet.

"But you forget, Drey. You broke me in a way that doesn't just 'heal.' You changed the architecture of my heart."

​"Then let me help you rebuild it," he countered.

​"I'm not ready to rebuild," I said, walking toward the stairs.

"I'm still in the demolition phase."
​I didn't look back to see his reaction.

I climbed the stairs to my own room, locking the door behind me. I wasn't ready to give up the fight.

Not when the wounds were still this fresh.

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A/N: Hello, hello everyone! Anyone?😅 After an eternity of not updating...finally. I am sincerely sorry for the very very late update. Life happened. I am just thankful for anyone who still is reading this story. Thank you. I appreciate you.