Marry Ex's Billionaire Uncle After Divorce (Aurora and Jasper) novel Chapter 179

Chapter 144: The Fight

(Aurora’s POV)

I lay flat on my back and stared at the ceiling.

The rose petals were still scattered across the ivory silk duvet. The fireplace had burned down to a low,

steady glow. Everything in the room was warm and soft and completely at odds with the rigid way I was

holding my body – arms at my sides, hands clenched around the edge of the sheet, not moving.

The shower was still running.

I needed an excuse. A good one. Something reasonable and adult that would explain why this was too

sudden, why I wasn’t ready, why tonight of all nights was simply not-

The water stopped.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened. Steam drifted out ahead of him. The scent followed – something clean and sharp underneath, and then something else, darker, warmer. Sandalwood and amber.

It reached me before he did.

I shut my eyes.

I squeezed the sheet harder.

The mattress dipped on the other side.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. I kept my eyes closed and tried to breathe evenly, which was harder

than it should have been.

Then I felt his hand – just the lightest brush across the top of my head. His palm rested there for a second,

warm and unhurried.

And then, barely a pressure at all, his lips touched mine.

It was nothing. A whisper. Less than a second.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Everett.”

His voice was low and even, and then he was gone – settled on his side, the lamp clicking off, the room going dark except for the embers.

I lay there in the dark and waited for my heartbeat to do something normal.

Slowly, without meaning to, my grip on the sheet loosened.

I’d spent three years bracing for things that hurt. This wasn’t that. I wasn’t sure what it was, exactly. But it

wasn’t that.

I closed my eyes for real this time, and eventually, I slept.

The morning light came through the curtains in thin strips. I checked my phone – just past seven. The other

Chapter 1&d. The Habt

side of the bed was already empty, the duvet smooth, barely disturbed.

I lay there for a moment and looked at the ceiling again, but it was different this time. Less panicked. I took stock of the room – the unfamiliar furniture, the faint trace of that scent still in the air, the way the morning made everything look ordinary.

I got up and went into the bathroom.

On the vanity, laid out in a neat row: a folded towel, a washcloth, and a toothbrush still in its packaging.

I stood there and looked at it.

He’d put it there before he went to sleep, or before I woke up, or at some point when I wasn’t paying

attention. A small, practical thing. No announcement, no expectation of thanks.

I peeled off the packaging and used it.

When I came downstairs, there was a smell I wasn’t expecting – butter, something savory, coffee. I stopped

in the kitchen doorway.

Phineas was at the stove. He’d changed into a charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, an apron tied around his waist. He was focused on whatever was in the pan, and he didn’t look up immediately.

I stared at him for a good four seconds.

“You cook,” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Eggs, toast, coffee. It’s not complicated.” He turned back to the stove. “Sit

down.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Aurora.” He said my name like it settled the matter. “You’re my wife. Sit down.”

I sat at the kitchen island and watched him plate the eggs – scrambled, with herbs, alongside thick–cut toast and a small dish of jam. He set a mug of coffee in front of me without asking how I took it. It was

exactly right.

I didn’t ask how he knew.

We ate without much conversation. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that didn’t need

filling.

When I set my fork down, I said, “I should head out. I can take the train-”

“No.”

“Phineas, if someone sees-”

“I’ll drop you near the building. No one will see.” He was already standing, untying the apron. “Give me ten

minutes.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question, so I didn’t argue.

€ Chapter 144 The want

He was ready in eight.

I was waiting in the entryway when he came down. He crossed to the coat hooks without breaking stride, lifted my coat off the hook, and held it out.

I took it automatically. “Thank you.”

He stopped.

I realized a half–second too late what I’d said.

He turned toward me slowly, and the look on his face wasn’t quite a smile it was something more deliberate than that. He leaned in, and I didn’t have time to step back before he kissed me.

This was not like last night.

Last night had been a whisper. This was something with weight to it, with intention – warm and unhurried and completely unapologetic. My thoughts went blank. My coat was still in my hands and I had absolutely

no idea what to do with it.

He pulled back. The corner of his mouth curved.

“Married people don’t say thank you to each other,” he said. His voice was perfectly even. “If you forget again, I’ll remind you the same way.”

My face was on fire.

I turned toward the elevator and walked. Quickly. I didn’t run, but it was a near thing.

I hit the button and stood there staring at the doors, willing them to open faster. Behind me, I could feel him watching. I did not turn around.

The elevator arrived. I stepped in. The doors slid shut.

I pressed my back against the wall of the elevator and let out a breath.

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