[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-260322A01459-507":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},507,14,"Chapter 14: The Three-Hour Timer","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The acute phase of my illness passed, and I was cleared to return home.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The man moved to guide me toward the exit. I pulled back, my instincts flaring. \"I don't know who you are.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He looked winded, as if the air had been sucked out of the room. \"I’m Desmond Knight. I’m your husband.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I didn't buy it. \"How can you prove that? Where are the papers?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Desmond hesitated, a flicker of raw exhaustion crossing his face. \"We hit a rough patch. We’re legally divorced.\" He paused, his voice dropping an octave. \"But we had agreed to reconcile.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I studied him, stone-faced. \"If we hit the point of divorce, it couldn't have been just a 'rough patch.' I don't take marriage lightly.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Desmond’s eyes turned glassy, a sharp red creeping into the rims. He forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. \"Serenity, you’re much harder to charm than you used to be.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Shadows bruised the skin under his eyes, and his jaw was darkened by a patchy, neglected beard. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. My resolve wavered, and I let him lead me out to the car.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The house felt like a museum dedicated to a life I didn't recognize. Photos of Desmond and me were plastered across every wall, capturing candid smiles that felt like someone else’s memories. But the proof that finally anchored me was the cat, Seven.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Seven—a Devon Rex with no sense of boundaries—didn't play the aloof feline. She trotted right up to me, winding through my ankles with urgent, rhythmic meows.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Desmond let out a sharp breath, like a man whose lungs had finally opened. He pulled a navy velvet box from his pocket and clicked it open. Inside sat a pear-cut diamond, flashing cold, brilliant light.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He slid it onto my ring finger. \"Do you believe me now? I’ve had this ready for our remarriage.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Believe what you want,\" he added, his voice tight. \"But we didn't divorce because I wanted to.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">...\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Desmond moved his entire office into the living room, hovering over me like a shadow. He spun our history for me—childhood friends, a natural progression into a marriage that felt like fate.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His tone was honeyed but carried an undercurrent of desperate, unyielding certainty. \"You used to say you couldn't imagine standing next to anyone else. I felt the same.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"So, the arguments, the divorce—it was all temporary. I never intended to walk away from you.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Did you love me?\" I asked, looking up at him.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Desmond leaned in close, his gaze heavy. \"I loved you deeply.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He cupped the back of my head, his touch lingering, then pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was warm, drawn-out, even tinged with a slight, desperate tremble.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">But my mind remained a static void.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">No spark. No ghost of a memory. No instinctual hum in my blood responding to his touch. It was as if we’d never kissed like this before.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Do you remember anything?\" he rasped.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I hung my head, heavy with shame. \"I'm sorry. Nothing.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Desmond stiffened, almost imperceptibly. His mouth still held that ghost of a smile, but the hope in his eyes had curdled into a jagged, hollow pain.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Business finally demanded his presence; he’d pushed off several meetings, but a high-stakes client had flown in from overseas. He couldn't dodge this one. He lingered at the front door, repeating his instructions like a prayer. \"Three hours. No more. I’ll be back in three hours.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He hadn't been gone for more than sixty seconds when someone knocked at the door.\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272916456]