Page 42 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

The silence felt like an executioner.

It tortured me with everything I didn’t have. Everything I couldn’t admit I needed. And it crept in worse at night, suffocating me like a pillow over the face. The spaces she’d filled within me and in my home…

It ached. All of it. No matter how many times I washed my sheets, I could still smell her sweet scent. So, I moved into the guest room in an attempt to escape. But she was there, too, like a ghost tormenting me.

Damn it, it was as if she’d branded herself into every facet of my life. And Christ, she had.

The house was an empty expanse of too many rooms and not enough Claire. Every damn thing reminded me of her, from the plants she’d talked to daily to the books she’d stacked by her side of the bed.

I had tried to put it all away, hide it so I wouldn’t have to face how much it hurt to look at. But every effort made it worse. Made her absence all the more present.

And then, the things I couldn’t put away. The memories of her smile, the brightness she brought into my cold, calculated world. They clung to me like shadows, making my attempts to forget as futile as trying to hold water in my hands.

The silence should have been a comfort, a return to what I was used to. Instead, it was a constant reminder of Claire.

It was on the couch that I found it—a slip of paper, creased and worn, tucked between the cushions. A list of things she meant to do:pick up milk, call Michael, fix the loose button on Alexander’s favorite shirt.Mundane. Innocent. And so completely her that it broke me.

The ink was smudged, like she’d carried it around before losing it here. But she’d fixed the button. I sat with it, the simple damn piece of paper, and it told me more than any letter, any confession.

This woman I let go—she’d settled into my life like she belonged there. And the ache of missing her was worse than anything I could have imagined.

I wanted her.

More than the plans I had, more than the facade I’d spent years constructing. I wanted her more than I’d ever let myself want anything. And in my arrogance, my desperate need to stay in control, I’d pushed her away.

I hadn’t seen it before. How she’d crept in, lingering in my heart. Making me need her in ways I couldn’t begin to understand until it was too late.

But now? Now it was all I saw.

Her laugh, soft and sweet. Her touch, gentle enough to undo a man like me. All the things I’d thought I could live without, now the only things I could think about. I let it in, the mess of feelings I’d tried so hard to shut out, and it consumed me. The careful distance I kept, the excuses I made—they crumbled, leaving me raw and exposed to the brutal truth of it.

I’d made a ruthless choice. The kind of choice that once defined me. The kind I was starting to hate myself for.

I pressed the list to my forehead, feeling the cool, thin paper like it might somehow erase the stupid decisions I’d made.

Because this is who I was. The man who never looked back. The man who couldn’t let himself do forever.

And yet, I was looking back.

I’d made the biggest mistake.

Letting her go… I was a fool. A blind idiot.

And I had no one to blame but myself.

Chapter Thirteen

Claire

I added the numbers until they stopped looking like numbers, hoping the totals would lose their meaning and give me something—anything—different.

But the bills sat in a neat stack, promises to pay and final notices like ugly confetti.

My hands shook. My eyes burned. The apartment felt too quiet with Michael at school and Mom at her appointment.

I filled out another online job application. I didn’t have time to lose it. And I definitely didn’t have time for Jen, who slammed the door and waltzed in with an entitled smile, spinning through my storm like it didn’t even exist.

“I need a new bag,” Jen announced, her eyes glued to her phone as she flopped onto the couch.

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