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Love on Borrowed Time Novel Cover

Love on Borrowed Time

After her husband spends a night mourning his first love's divorce, a devoted wife discovers his digital shrine to his former flame. When he unexpectedly proposes a second wedding ceremony, she realizes it is merely a ploy to incite jealousy in the woman he truly desires. Playing along with his deception, she accepts the proposal while secretly embedding a divorce agreement into the legal paperwork. This modern romance explores a marriage built on ghosts and the cold calculation of a woman pushed too far.
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Chapter 3

"Someday, we'll make it public," Max said. "For now, our top priority is still handling this project."

I nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

I didn't remind him that the real priority seemed to be the wedding that was just around the corner.

I also didn't remind him that on that very day, the divorce cooling-off period would end.

After all, in his eyes, Sandra still mattered most.

Throughout the project, Max's deliberate efforts to avoid situations where I might run into Sandra didn't go unnoticed by my partner.

Curious for gossip, she asked me, "Did you and Mr. Curtis have something going on in the past?"

I smiled. "How could that be?"

She smiled. "He's stolen a few looks at you. Those really guilty ones. It's the look of a man who isn't a complete jerk. He still stares at an ex he hasn't gotten over."

I froze for a moment and thought back carefully.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed. It was just that everything in the past made it impossible for me to trust what I saw in his eyes.

Ten days left for the countdown.

Today, there was supposed to be a routine project meeting.

Sandra, intentionally or not, chatted with me for quite a while. I knew she had probably guessed the nature of my relationship with Max.

I responded politely, as always.

After the meeting, Max unexpectedly offered to drive me home.

It was the first time.

"Your professional ability really exceeded my expectations."

In five years of marriage, it was the first time Max had ever praised me.

My hands paused while I was packing up the documents. I looked at him in confusion.

Max hesitated for a long time before finally speaking. "Is it still possible to redo the wedding?"

I lowered my head. I knew he probably wanted to cancel it.

It was most likely because of Sandra.

"Let's cancel it. There aren't that many days left, anyway," I said. I looked up at him; I didn't call him out, unwilling to make things awkward.

Max stared at me in stunned silence. It was as if he had received an answer he never expected.

He then asked abruptly, "Don't you care at all?"

Fair enough. If this had happened in the past, I might have lost control on the spot and demanded an explanation.

Many moments of humiliation in our marriage had come from me losing my composure, even though every one of them had been caused by him.

I shook my head.

"What's there to care about? It's just a ceremony."

After a long silence, Max took the initiative to speak.

"What if I take you to an old city nearby for a getaway in a few days?"

I glanced at the countdown on my phone. There were ten days left while we were going through the process, so I declined.

I declined.

His hands on the steering wheel stiffened. He nearly ran a red light at the intersection.

"What about the beach? Or that restaurant you've always wanted to try?"

Max suggested several more ways to relax, but I turned each one down.

By the time we got out of the car, his expression had shifted from awkwardness and guilt to confusion and displeasure.

Seeing his expression, I spoke up first.

"How about we go see the old house?"

The old house was where Max and I lived when we first got married. I really did miss it a little.

Max froze for a long while. He was trying to guess my intentions.

Even after I got out of the car, he stayed seated inside. He sat there for a long time.

Finally, only one day was left as we were going through the process.

Perhaps some unspoken understanding had formed. Max and I rarely appeared together at project meetings anymore.

Occasionally, when Sandra wasn't around, Max would suddenly come downstairs. He wouldn't speak at the meeting. He would just sit there and look at me from time to time.