The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice

I had lied so many times that I no longer knew where the truth ended and the deception began.

SELENE

I rushed forward just as Sebastian opened the envelope, and in that instant I understood that some lies don't need words to destroy you.

I tore the envelope and the papers from his hands with such force that the paper ripped. If there was one thing I was desperate to protect in that moment, it was my lies. I shoved the files behind my back, my breaths coming fast and uneven.

Sebastian stared at me, visibly stunned.

I didn't know if that look was because of how violently I had snatched the papers from him, or because he had already seen what was inside.

Had he seen it?

Had he read it?

I'd grabbed them almost immediately, before he could properly look. That had to count for something. Maybe he hadn't seen anything. Maybe I was still safe.

Please, I prayed silently.

Please let him tell me he didn't see it.

"S-Sebastian..." I called, my voice catching as I searched desperately for words that refused to come.

His lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "Were you planning to tell me... or was I never supposed to find it?"

My heart slammed violently against my ribs. I staggered back a step, my breath hitching. "Sebastian... I-"

The words dissolved in my throat. Tears burned behind my eyes, blurring my vision. Who was I to think this fragile peace could last? Who was I to hope that-

I exhaled shakily and dropped my gaze. "This is..."

"What was that?" He interrupted.

I looked up, startled. "What?"

"The papers." He said evenly. "The files you're hiding behind you. What are they?"

I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. "You... didn't see them?"

"With how fast you ripped them out of my hands," he replied, his voice calm but sharp around the edges, "there was no chance I could've."

A breath of relief slipped out of me before I could stop it.

He hadn't seen it yet.

"They're..." My throat closed around the word. I swallowed, forcing air back into my lungs as my mind scrambled for something that could pass for the truth. "They're confidential documents. You aren't meant to see them yet."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Sebastian didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed on me, but the warmth I was getting used to seeing there had dimmed. His brows drew together, not in anger, but in quiet thought.

Slowly, he tilted his head, like he was trying to look at me from a different angle.

"Yet?" He echoed softly, and his eyes flicked briefly to the torn edge of the paper clenched behind my back, then returned to my face.

He didn't reach for it.

But the way he sighed told me he didn't believe me. Not completely.

"They're artwork papers." I said, forcing the words out before my courage could fail me. I leaned into the lie, dressing it up carefully. "My team and I are still working on them. They're... confidential." I swallowed, then added softly. "I'm sorry for grabbing them like that."

For a moment, he only watched me.

Then something in him eased. His shoulders relaxed, the tension draining away as he nodded once, as if he had decided to accept my explanation-not because it was convincing, but because he chose to.

"Alright."

He looked around the house again. "So..." he said, turning back to me, "where is our room?"

A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. Behind my back, my fingers tightened around the papers, crumpling them slightly.

"Let me show you." I said, and stepped forward, leading him deeper into the lie I had built for us both.

When we reached the bedroom, Sebastian stopped at the doorway.

He didn't step in immediately. He just stood there, taking it all in, his gaze moving slowly, as though the room were speaking to him in a language he almost understood.

We had never shared a bedroom before. Not really. He had his, one he barely used, and I had mine. But after the lie I'd sold him, after I'd painted a picture of love and closeness, it would have been strange to keep up that distance. So I'd moved his things into my room and turned it into ours.

Sebastian finally stepped inside.

His fingers brushed the nightstand, then the edge of the bed. He picked up the pillow, squeezed it once, as if testing something familiar hidden beneath the fabric. None of it looked deliberate. It felt instinctive like muscle memory reaching for a past his mind refused to give him.

Then he turned to me and smiled.

Relief washed over me so suddenly I almost swayed. That smile felt like a pardon I hadn't earned.

"Come." He said, lifting a hand toward me.

"What is it?" I asked, moving closer anyway.

He took my hands gently, as if afraid they might disappear if he held them too tightly.

"It feels nice to be home." He said softly, his smile deepening.

Home.

The word twisted something in my chest.

Still, I smiled back because that was what I was supposed to do, even as the lie settled heavier between us.

Don't let your guilt ruin this moment, my subconscious warned.

"Did I ever tell you?" Sebastian said, giving my hand a gentle tug as he led me toward the bed.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"That you have a beautiful smile." His voice dropped to a gentler tone as he lowered himself onto the mattress.

My lips curved without permission, the smile deepening until it nearly became a grin. I brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I hear that a lot."

His brows lifted slightly. "From who?"

He sat on the edge of the bed then, pulling me closer until I stood between his knees. He looked up at me, eyes steady, curious.

"People..." My voice wavered as I answered.

My hair slipped forward, grazing my cheek, and I became acutely aware of how close he was. He had only touched my hand, yet my body reacted as if he had done much more.

"Then you should warn people before you smile," he murmured, tipping backward and taking me with him. "It's distracting."

He landed on the mattress first and patted the empty space beside him.

"You should shower before lying on the bed." I scolded, though the protest was weak. He ignored it anyway, tugging me down until I was beside him.

"You're tense." He said quietly, studying my face.

My pulse skidded, every nerve awake to the quiet intensity of his gaze. I fixed my gaze on the ceiling instead, afraid of what he might see if I looked back. "You make it hard not to be." I whispered.

A low chuckle vibrated against my hair. "I'll take that as a compliment."

My eyes betrayed me, drifting back to him. A glance turned into a stare. I hadn't known that simply looking at someone-this quietly, this closely-could make me feel so alive, so seen. It made me want more, even if I didn't know what more was yet.

So when Sebastian shifted closer, I didn't flinch. When his thumb traced slow, absent circles at my waist and lingered at my stomach, I stayed still, even as my breathing grew shallow.

My lips parted instinctively when I felt his breath brush my cheek, his mouth lowering closer, and closer. I closed my eyes, waiting.

But his lips never found mine.

Instead, he kissed my chin, then lingered, trailing soft, deliberate kisses up my cheek.

Disappointment flickered briefly but it was quickly swallowed by the sensation blooming through me. A sound I didn't recognize slipped from my lips as my hands rose to his neck, fingers curling there, holding him.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and rested his brow against mine, just for a heartbeat, before drifting to my temple. His body shuddered as he exhaled, as though he was breathing me in.

Another breath followed, deeper this time. He stayed there.

"Sebastian..." I whispered.

"Stay." He purred, his voice low, vibrating against my skin. "Let's stay like this for a while."

And for once, I didn't feel the urge to run.

"If I fall asleep like this," he murmured, his voice already slipping to sleep, "promise you won't disappear."

I stilled.

"Why do you think I'd disappear?" I asked softly.

He shifted, settling his head more comfortably against my shoulder. "You're always running, he whispered, the words slurring slightly. "Like I scare you."

The words stunned me. I hadn't realized he noticed. Not once had I thought my distance was visible to him. It wasn't fear that made me pull away, but how could I explain that now?

Before I could speak, he stirred again, his voice softer, blurred by sleep. "So... promise me."

My fingers slid into his hair, gentle. "I promise."

Almost instantly, his breathing slowed, evening out, his body relaxing as if the promise itself had anchored him. I smiled despite myself, continuing to trace lazy patterns along his scalp, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

"You really should've showered before sleeping." I whispered teasingly, studying the familiar lines of his face as though I were seeing them for the first time. My hand lifted, drawn toward his lashes-

Then his lips parted.

"Irene."

The name fell from him like a ghost.

My hand stilled midair, then trembled as I pulled it back. The warmth in my chest collapsed into something aching. Even now, her name still found its way out of him.

And it shattered me.