My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 371

The morning came earlier than Riyana expected.

Her eyes opened slowly, not because she was rested, but because sleep had quietly abandoned her hours ago. The room was still dim, early light just beginning to slip through the curtains in thin pale lines. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Jabco was still asleep beside her.

She lay still for a moment, listening to his breathing.

Slow and even. The kind of calm breathing that only came when someone’s mind was finally resting.

She envied that. Her own chest felt tight, heavy, as if she had been carrying something all night without realizing it.

She had not slept properly.

Stress had sat on her chest like a weight, pressing down no matter how she shifted. Every time she closed her eyes, her thoughts pulled her back awake. Too many things. Too many worries. Too many questions she had no answers to.

Her head throbbed faintly, a dull pain spreading behind her eyes. She lifted a hand and pressed her fingers to her temple, trying to ease it, but it did not help much.

Carefully, she turned her head and looked at Jabco.

He was lying on his back now, one arm resting loosely above his head, the other near her pillow as if he had reached for her in his sleep. His face looked different when he slept. Softer. The sharp edges faded when his eyes were closed. No tension. No control. Just quiet.

For a brief second, she wondered what he was dreaming about.

She pushed the thought away.

Slowly, gently, she moved the blanket aside and sat up. She made sure her movements were light and controlled. She did not want to wake him. She needed space.

She slid her feet onto the floor, the cool surface sending a small shiver through her body. Standing up, she glanced back once more to make sure he was still asleep, then quietly walked toward the bathroom.

The door clicked shut softly behind her.

Inside, she leaned both hands on the sink and stared at her reflection. Her face looked tired. Not just physically. Emotionally tired.

Her eyes lacked their usual sharpness, as if something had drained her overnight.

She turned on the shower and stepped under the warm water, letting it pour over her head and shoulders. For a few minutes, she stood there without moving, letting the sound of the water drown out everything else. Her thoughts slowed, just a little.

After a quick shower, she dried herself and changed into comfortable clothes. When she stepped back into the bedroom, Jabco was still sleeping in the same position. She did not wake him. She did not even look at him for long this time.

She quietly left the room.

The house felt different in the early morning. The kind of stillness that felt honest. She walked into the kitchen and switched on the light. The soft hum of the machine broke the silence just enough to make her feel less alone.

She moved on instinct, reaching for the coffee maker, measuring the grounds, filling the water.

As the coffee brewed, the rich smell slowly filled the kitchen. It grounded her, just a little. Something familiar. Something steady.

She poured herself a cup and leaned against the counter, holding it between her hands. The warmth seeped into her palms. She lifted it toward her lips, ready to take the first sip.

That was when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

The sudden movement startled her.

She frowned slightly and pulled the phone out, her fingers already tense. It was still early. No one ever messaged her this early unless something was wrong.

When she saw the name on the screen, her entire body froze.

Her Father.

Her breath caught.

For a second, she simply stared at the screen, her mind refusing to process it. Her fingers felt numb as she unlocked the phone and opened the message.

The words appeared slowly, one line at a time.

“I’m sorry, my daughter.Please forgive me.

You don’t have to send me any money anymore. And I promise you I will never appear in front of you ever again. I’m sorry.”

That was it.

Riyana felt as if something cold had passed through her chest. Her hand tightened around the phone, knuckles turning pale.

She read the message again.

Once, Twice, A third time.

Her eyes scanned the words as if they might change, as if she might suddenly realize she had misunderstood something. But the message stayed the same.

“How…” she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible.

How could a man like him say sorry?

So his absence did not hurt her.

Instead, she felt lighter.

The tension she had been carrying for so long loosened slightly, like a tight knot finally easing. Her shoulders dropped. Her breathing slowed.

She put the phone down on the counter and closed her eyes for a moment, letting the relief wash over her.

“It’s over,” she whispered to herself.

When she opened her eyes again, the kitchen felt brighter. Not because the light had changed, but because something inside her had.

She picked up her coffee and finally took a sip.

The taste was rich and warm. Comforting. It felt better than usual, like her body was finally allowing herself to enjoy it.

She took another sip, then another, savoring it.

Her free hand moved instinctively to her belly.

She rested her palm there gently, her touch soft, protective. A small smile curved her lips, real and unforced.

“Babe,” she whispered quietly, as if afraid to break the moment. “It’s a new morning.”

She stayed like that for a while, hand on her belly, coffee forgotten in the other. Her thoughts were no longer racing. They felt calm and grounded.

Then another thought slowly formed.

Jabco.

He had been cooking for her these past few days. Without complaint. Without asking for credit. He had made sure she ate properly, even when she was tired or emotional. He had taken care of her in ways she did not expect.

And she had never done anything for him in return.

Not once.

The realization made her pause.

“Let’s make something for your father too,” she said softly, more to herself than anyone else.

The words felt strange on her tongue, but not wrong.