Wife for a year, mine forever のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Isabella's pov The knock on my door came just as I was brushing out my hair, the rhythmic thud pulling me from my thoughts.“Come in,” I called softly.The door opened to reveal Niles, his ever present polite smile resting on his lips as he stepped inside with his usual quiet grace. In his hands was a long garment bag, the kind that screamed expensive before I even saw what was inside. Balanced carefully under his arm was a shoebox and a small velvet jewelry box.“Good evening, Miss Isabella,” he greeted, setting the items gently on the edge of my bed. “Mr. Rothwell has an event tonight. You are to accompany him.”My heart skipped. “An event?”“A gala,” he clarified. “A rather important one.”I stared at the dress bag as if it held my destiny. My fingers twitched with nervousness, but I managed a small smile. “Thank you, Niles.”He gave a polite nod and turned to leave, but before he reached the door, words tumbled from my lips. “Niles… wait.”He paused, glancing back at me. “Yes, Mi

Isabella's pov The cool night wind nipped at my bare shoulders, but I barely felt it. I stood rooted on the balcony, eyes fixed on the glittering skyline below, as if the stars might offer me answers I didn’t already know.God, how pathetic could I get?I wiped at my cheeks furiously, erasing the tears as if they never existed. Crying over a man who didn’t even look back… over a marriage that was nothing but a business arrangement. I had forgotten my place. I had been stupid enough to believe there was something real hiding behind the practiced smiles and rehearsed touches.Delusional, that’s what I was.I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shake off the ache clawing at my chest when a low voice cut through the silence.“Aren’t you cold?”I stiffened and turned just enough to see Caleb step onto the balcony, his expression irritatingly casual. Before I could answer, he was shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over my shoulders.“Thank you,” I muttered, keeping my gaze o

Isabella's pov I was setting the table for dinner, carefully placing the plates and cutlery the way Niles had taught me. The house was silent, and for once, I liked it that way. It gave me time to think, or rather, time not to think about everything swirling inside my chest. I had just placed the last fork down when the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor echoed from the hallway.When I turned, the last person I expected to see was standing in the doorway.The blonde woman Julian kissed, tall, perfect, and confident, strutted into the dining room as if she owned the place. Her scarlet heels clicked with every step, her short, white tight dress hugging her body like it was made for sin. In my mind, the first word that popped up was Santa and not the cheerful, red suited one.Her eyes scanned the room, then landed on me. “And who are you?” she asked, voice dripping with disdain.I opened my mouth to answer, but she waved her hand dismissively. “Oh wait, don’t tell me. You’

“I can’t let him go, Dad!” Sarah screamed, her voice breaking into a thousand shards as the crystal glass in her hand shattered against the wall. Pieces scattered across the marble floor like her sanity. Her eyes were red and swollen, hair a mess as she sank to the cold ground, hugging her knees and rocking slightly.“Sarah,” Mr. Williams said calmly, though the muscle in his jaw twitched. He hated seeing his only daughter like this. “You need to compose yourself. He’s already married…”“I don’t care!” she screamed again, louder this time, her chest heaving as more tears streamed down her cheeks. “I love him! I’ve loved him for four years, Dad! I’ve done everything… everything… to be the woman he wants, and now he goes and marries her?” Her voice cracked as she spat the last word like poison. “I can’t live without him. I won’t.”Her mother sighed from the armchair, crossing her legs and glancing at the broken glass on the floor. “Sweetheart, listen to reason. He’s a Rothwell. They do

Isabella's pov The drive back was quiet at first, the kind of quiet that isn’t awkward but heavy, like the air itself was charged with something I couldn’t name. The city lights blurred past the windows, but all I could see was him.Julian had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on my thigh. It was innocent at first… or maybe it wasn’t. His thumb brushed gently against my skin in slow, absent circles, he didn’t even realize what he was doing.Every stroke sent tiny sparks up my spine, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. I tried to look out the window, to act unaffected, but every time I did, he’d glance at me with that small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips.“Something wrong?” he asked, voice low and teasing.I shook my head quickly. “No… nothing.”“Hmm,” he hummed, eyes still on the road, though I could tell he was enjoying this, the way my fingers gripped my dress, the way my voice betrayed me.His hand stayed there, warm and firm, and I could feel my