Lahat ng Kabanata ng I Married A Billionaire, Who Wanted Revenge!!!: Kabanata 131 - Kabanata 140

ELOWENI stood beside the bed and could not move.The room was warm— my skin felt as though I had stepped into winter without a coat. The sensation crawled along my arms and settled in my fingers, stiff and numb, until I realized I was gripping the metal bedrail hard enough for my knuckles to ache. I loosened my hold slightly, then tightened it again without meaning to, as if letting go might cause the world to tilt and finally collapse.The rise and fall of his chest was subtle, barely noticeable at first. It took several seconds for my mind to register what my eyes were seeing, as though belief itself lagged behind reality. When it finally did, my stomach lurched violently…He was breathing.I leaned closer to the bed, my movements slow and cautious, as if I were approaching something fragile that might vanish if startled. Since childhood, I had grown up learning, uncle Leo had died in an accident, but this— how is this even possible?They buried him. I saw the photographs. This- t

ElowenThe door closed behind Alexander without a sound. He departed without a final warning, reassurance, or promise… He just left. Just the soft seal of glass and metal, and then the room belonged to me again.The machines remained oblivious to the change, maintaining their consistent rhythm. Their soft hum and occasional beeps permeated the silence, much like a metronome. This steady, calm demeanour seemed incongruous with the words that had just been uttered.I stood where I had been left, beside the hospital bed, my hand hovering uselessly near the rail, as if my body hadn’t yet received instructions from my mind.The ache in my abdomen remained, but it was dull enough. I caressed my abdomen softly and then glanced at my uncle. The room was quite warm, perhaps excessively so. The overhead lights were dimmed to a nocturnal glow, casting everything in muted silver and shadow. Despite this, my skin felt cold, taut along my arms, and my spine prickled as if I had ventured into win

ELOWENThe door had barely closed behind me when my body betrayed me.Not pain— not yet. Just a pressure, deep and sudden, blooming low in my abdomen like something tightening from the inside out. I paused mid-step, my hand brushing the cool wall of the corridor, expecting the sensation to pass the way lesser dizziness always did.It didn’t.The light ahead of me sharpened too much, edges bleaching white. The corridor felt longer than it had been seconds ago, the floor subtly tilting as if the building itself had shifted its alignment. My heartbeat climbed abruptly, loud enough that I could hear it in my ears.What's happening to me!?I inhaled, slow and deliberate, the way I had taught myself to do years ago.I need to get out.Another step. Then another. My legs felt hollow, as though the strength had been drained from them without warning. The pressure in my abdomen tightened again, sharper this time, sending a faint wave of nausea up my throat.I reached for the wall properly. Yet

ELOWENHome did not greet me, not anymore. Instead, it felt more like a prison in hell. The gates slid shut behind the car with their usual muted authority, iron folding into iron, sealing me back inside a world that had shaped me long before I knew how to resist it. The house rose ahead— unchanged, immaculate, and composed. White stone warmed by amber lights. Windows glowing with life that felt rehearsed rather than lived.I stepped inside wearing the same demeanour I always had. My chin was raised, my shoulders were straight, and a sense of calm was carefully maintained on my face, creating a flawless facade.No one asked where I had been.A servant took my coat. Another murmured a welcome. Someone commented on the weather. The normal choreography resumed without hesitation, as if my absence had been a minor scheduling detail rather than a rupture.My body, however, remembered everything.The hospital’s sterile brightness still lingered behind my eyes. The low hum of machines echo

ELOWENThe only sound cutting the silence was the constant low roar of the sea, that never fully faded. The wind carried a damp cold even through my coat. The railing felt cool and smooth beneath my fingertips, a sensation that was a comforting contrast to the vastness of the night.Abraham stood beside me, quite motionless. He hadn’t said anything, or reacted. He was staring right at the ocean, gazing at the unknown…I had expected something immediate after the words left my mouth: a reaction, or perhaps a shift. Even anger would have been easier to deal with than this absolute suspension of movement. However, he did not reach out to me. He did not step back. He did not avert his gaze either. He simply stood there, eyes forward, his posture unchanged, as though the world had paused to let him calculate.I did not feel compelled to break the silence, and that was what surprised me the most.The old version of me— the one trained to soften rooms and smooth tension— would have spoken