The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice
8.5 / 10.0
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"Do you enjoy this? Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?"
After three years of a cold, loveless marriage, Selene Henderson finally gathers the courage to walk away from her distant billionaire husband, Sebastian Kingsley.
She's ready to file for divorce... until a tragic accident changes everything.
When Sebastian wakes up with no memory of the woman he once pushed away, Selene finds herself trapped in a marriage she was desperate to escape, this time with a man who suddenly looks at her like she's his whole world.
But can love born from broken memories survive the truth of their painful past?
Or will the secrets she's been hiding destroy them all over again?
The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice Chapter 1
At 3 a.m., my husband remembered where he lived, and I remembered why I had stopped hoping.
SELENE
Beep... Beep... Beep...
My hands froze on the refrigerator handle.
For a moment, I just stood there, heart stuttering at the sharp sound of the door code being entered incorrectly. The living room was dim, shadows stretching lazily across the walls as I squinted toward the wall clock.
3:00 a.m.
Beep... Beep... Beep...
The sound came again, more frantic this time. I heard muffled curses from the other side of the door, metal clinking as someone fumbled aggressively with the keypad.
I closed the fridge slowly and stepped away from it, my fingers curling around the hem of my nightdress. My chest tightened, not with fear, but with a dull, familiar resignation.
The lock finally clicked.
The door creaked open.
I took a step back and quickly turned on the light.
Sebastian stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, one hand braced against the doorframe as he muttered under his breath. He tugged at his tie, struggling to loosen it.
He was drunk.
And I wasn't shocked. Not even a little.
Sebastian Kingsley only remembered this house when he was drunk. Sober, it didn't exist to him.
You might wonder why I didn't panic at the strange sound of someone failing my door code in the middle of the night. The truth was simple, he was the only one who ever came here at odd hours.
We've been married for three years, yet sometimes I forgot I was even a wife. Sebastian hated my presence and barely lived in this house. We were not a loving, doting couple. There were no late-night conversations, no shared routines, no warmth between us.
If it hadn't been for our families arranging this marriage, Sebastian wouldn't have looked at me twice.
And now, here he was, stumbling into the home he refused to acknowledge as his, wearing the ring that bound us both, yet living a life that never included me.
He rolled his eyes the moment he caught sight of me, teetering unsteadily toward my direction.
"Why is it always so bright in this house?" His words were slurred, each one dragging lazily from his lips. He ran a hand through his messy hair, fingers tangling in the strands. "Can't a man come in without a spotlight?"
"I... I can turn it off if you don't like it." I managed to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands hovered near the switch, unsure whether to actually obey.
Sebastian glanced at me, eyes half-lidded, then pushed past me with one careless hand. I stumbled slightly, my chest clenching as my foot caught the edge of the rug, but I didn't protest. He wasn't aggressive. He was just too drunk to notice the ripple of imbalance he left in his wake.
"Ah..." He sighed, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic thud. One hand fell to his forehead, the other draped loosely over the armrest. His eyes were closed, and suddenly, the room felt heavy with his presence.
I stayed rooted in place, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, knuckles whitening, before finally turning toward my room.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
With a quiet sigh, I opened the closet and pulled out a neatly folded blanket. For a moment, I just stood there, the fabric warm against my palms, and I paused.
It was ridiculous, wasn't it? That I still cared for him after everything. After the cold stares, the dismissive words. The way he made it clear, from the very beginning, that I was never meant to matter.
I remembered his voice clearly, cutting through whatever hope I had on the night we married.
"I married you because it was arranged. Don't mistake that for affection. Keep your distance, or you'll only hurt yourself."
And yet... here I was, hesitating, lingering over a small act of kindness I knew he didn't deserve.
I sighed softly, and returned to the living room. He lay on the couch, sprawled in careless disarray.
Carefully, I approached, crouching low to tug off his shoes. He stirred in his sleep, kicking slightly at me, but I remained still, placing the shoes neatly on the floor. I draped the blanket over him with careful fingers, tucking it around his shoulders as gently as I could.
My hands lingered on the fabric as I crouched again, studying his face.
Sleep softened his features, but even like this, Sebastian Kingsley was devastatingly handsome.
He was the kind of man who drew attention without trying. The youngest billionaire in the country. The sole heir to Kingsley Group. A man with everything.
Everything except me.
I had watched him with countless women, watched him chase them even after our marriage.
He let out a low, sleepy moan. His hand reached up to ruffle through his hair, and my gaze inevitably drifted to our wedding ring glinting on his finger. What purpose did it serve, I wondered, if he never acknowledged the bond it represented?
I pulled my eyes away from the ring, feeling a sharp pang of regret in my chest. Why had I even bothered to drape him with a blanket? My hands felt foolish, heavy with all the hope I had been holding onto for three years.
I took a tentative step back, ready to retreat, when his hand clamped firmly around mine.
I gasped, startled, and looked down at him. His eyes were still closed. My instincts screamed at me to pull away, but before I could move, he tugged me toward him. I stumbled, falling to the couch beside him.
Another gasp escaped me as he shifted, turning so that our faces were barely an inch apart. His warm breath brushed against my cheek, his lips so close I could feel the faint heat of them. My cheeks burned, a bright, helpless red. Three years of marriage, and I had never been this close to him.
I should have pulled away.
I should have stood.
I should have...
But my thoughts died when his eyes fluttered open.
"I... I..." I scrambled for words, panic rising in my chest. He might think I tried to take advantage of him. My lips parted, ready to protest. "I didn't-"
The words vanished as he lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. There was no anger in his gaze, no accusation. Only... focus. Only attention.
"You're pretty."
My heart stuttered violently, as if it had forgotten how to beat. Had Sebastian just... called me pretty?
Before I could process it, his lips brushed against mine in a soft, fleeting kiss. My entire body froze. I was beyond stunned.
"I don't know what I'd do without you... Irene."
My chest collapsed.
Irene.
Not Selene.
Not me.
My lips trembled as the truth settled in.
Right. Of course. There was never a chance this tenderness belonged to me.
I pulled away carefully and rose from the couch, as if any sound might shatter what little dignity I had left.
After three years, I should have known better than to hope.
Because no matter what I did...
I would always remain invisible to him.
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The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice of Contents
New Release Novels
8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
7.8
Alexis signed the divorce papers, leaving her with no assets, no alimony, and just the clothes on her back.
To forget her abusive husband Carlos, she got drunk and bought a high-end gigolo for the night with her last 800 dollars.
But the man she slept with wasn't an escort. He was Jarrett Hughes, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And while she was gone, her ex-husband was busy destroying her entire life.
Carlos framed her with fake photos of her cheating to justify the penniless divorce.
Then came the real nightmare.
Carlos and her own aunt secretly drained her family's corporate accounts, driving her father to jump off a building.
At the hospital, her grieving mother blamed her for the tragedy, violently attacking her in the ER.
To top it off, her cousin Josie—who was secretly sleeping with Carlos—held her father's ashes hostage.
"Crawl on your knees and pick it up, or the ashes go in the river," Josie sneered, throwing cash into the freezing slush.
Stripped of her marriage, her father, and her dignity, Alexis sat bleeding in the snow.
She couldn't understand why the people she loved most had coordinated such a brutal slaughter against her.
But Carlos and Josie made one fatal mistake.
They didn't know the "gigolo" Alexis had accidentally bought was the most powerful man in New York.
Alexis looked at the towering billionaire standing behind her, a vengeful fire burning in her eyes.
"I need you to get my father's ashes back," she said, pulling him into a kiss right in front of her ex-husband. "I don't care what it takes."
7.2
Four years ago, Madelynn accepted money from Caiden's family and vanished. She thought it was for the best-he would remain the untouchable heir while she faced her tough life alone.
When they met again, Caiden humiliated her in public, yet appeared when she was cornered by a difficult client, pulling her back into his life.
He forced her to stay as his lover, using her mother's medical bills as leverage, whispering, "What you owe me... you'll repay the same way."
Madelynn believed he despised her. Only after the accident, when he ran toward her before the explosion, did she understand-he never let go.
9.0
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal.
Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer.
To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie.
I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative.
"We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates."
To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real.
7.6
To pay for her father's life support, Haleigh sold herself into a marriage with Fabian Blackburn, a ruthless billionaire in a deep coma.
But on her wedding day, she caught her boyfriend cheating with her stepsister, laughing about how they would steal the inheritance the second Fabian stopped breathing. Cornered and desperate, Haleigh secretly underwent IVF using her comatose husband's frozen sperm to secure the family trust.
Weeks later, a miracle happened. Fabian woke up.
But instead of gratitude, he treated her like trash. He threw annulment papers at her face, completely disgusted by the arranged marriage.
"If you try any dirty tricks to get pregnant, I will personally drag you to a clinic and have that bastard scraped out of you."
Terrified, Haleigh hid her positive pregnancy test and desperately tried to hack her way to enough cash to escape. But while using his computer, she accidentally opened a highly classified folder.
Inside was a medical file and a photo of a severely disabled girl who looked exactly like Fabian.
Before she could process it, Fabian walked in. Seeing the screen, his cold mask shattered into pure, unhinged madness. He lunged across the room, lifting her off the floor by her throat, completely ignoring her desperate gasps for air.
"Lock her in the basement," he roared to his guards. "No food. No water."
Curled on the freezing concrete, clutching her newly pregnant belly, Haleigh didn't understand what she had just seen that turned him into a murderous monster.
But she knew one thing: if she didn't escape this terrifying estate, both she and his unborn heir would die in the dark.
8.5
Alexandrea woke up with a splitting headache in a strange hotel bed, terrified to find a brutally handsome, half-naked stranger beside her.
Before she could even scream, the door burst open. Her adoptive mother, Ivette, stormed in with a swarm of reporters and flashing cameras.
"How could you disgrace our family name like this?"
Ivette sobbed, putting on a theatrical performance of a heartbroken mother. It was a setup to completely ruin Alexandrea's reputation in front of New York's elite.
For ten years, Alexandrea had lived in a house of horrors. Her back and arms were covered in silvery scars and puckered cigarette burns left by Ivette's vicious abuse.
Yet to the public, Ivette had carefully crafted Alexandrea's image as a wild, ungrateful, and manipulative liar.
Trapped under the duvet, Alexandrea was drowning in shame, her voice lost in the storm of accusations.
She didn't understand why her adoptive family hated her so much, treating her worse than a stray dog while using her brother's future to keep her chained.
But what she understood even less was the stranger beside her.
Instead of panicking, the man slowly sat up, his presence alone silencing the frantic room. He was Ace Griffith, the billionaire heir who owned half of Manhattan.
He wrapped his suit jacket around her trembling shoulders, looked Ivette dead in the eye, and dropped a bomb.
"I will be marrying her."
Then, he carried Alexandrea away from her ten-year prison, ordering his men to dig up the Terry family's darkest secrets and her true identity.
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