My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 282

Morning light crept into the room through the half-open curtains.

Jabco blinked slowly as he woke up.

For a few seconds, he didn’t move. His body felt strangely light, rested, the way it used to feel years ago when sleep came easy. His head didn’t hurt. His chest felt calm. Too calm.

He sat up and rubbed his temple, trying to understand why he felt like this.

Then everything from last night came rushing back.

Her face. Her warmth. The way she was in his arms.

His head snapped to the other side of the bed.

Empty.

The space beside him was cold. No trace of her. No sound. No movement.

His heart dropped.

“Riyana?,” he muttered to himself.

He clearly remembered holding her.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, the sheet slipping from his waist. His chest felt tight now. He wasn’t a man who lost control like that. Never had been.

He had been with women before. Enough times. But he had always been clear. Always in control.

Last night… he wasn’t sure anymore.

He hadn’t forced her. He knew that. She hadn’t pushed him away. She hadn’t cried or begged him to stop.

But still.

He was her boss, She was his secretary.

Ten years.

Ten years of trust, of routine, of silence between them that had always felt safe.

And in one night, he had crossed a line he never thought he would.

His eyes fell on the chair near the table.

His clothes were there, folded neatly. Too neatly.

That was her habit.

Even after everything, she hadn’t forgotten what she always did.

“Damn it,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bedroom.

“Riyana?” he called out, his voice louder than he intended.

No answer.

He walked down the stairs quickly, his bare feet hitting the steps faster and faster. His chest felt uneasy now, a dull ache spreading as he searched the living room.

Nothing.

He moved into the kitchen and stopped.

Breakfast was ready.

Simple. Clean. Just the way she always prepared it. Everything placed carefully, as if she had followed her usual routine before leaving.

It was the weekend. She didn’t have to do this.

But she did.

He stood there, staring at the food like it was mocking him.

“So you just… left,” he said quietly, his hands turned into tight fists.

She had walked out without a single word.

Yet she hadn’t forgotten her role. Hadn’t forgotten her duty.

That hurt more than anger would have.

He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify