My Husband's Affair My Anniversary Gift (Lily and David) novel Chapter 46

David couldn’t understand Claire’s words.

“Unless you can find Aurora yourself…”

Her tone had been calm, almost indulgent, as though she were speaking to a man who hadn’t yet grasped something obvious. It left him unsettled. He was a man who prided himself on being able to control, to acquire, to negotiate and win—but this time, he felt as if someone had closed a door right in his face.

On the way home, his thoughts kept circling back—not to Marina’s tantrums, not to Claire’s cryptic answer—but to Lily. Her indifference, her barbed remarks, her smile that always seemed to cut straight through his pride.

Why did it always come back to her?

The car slowed to a stop in front of the house. David sat for a while, fingers drumming against the steering wheel, before finally stepping out. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of the garden roses Lily often watered herself.

When he pushed open the door, the living room was quiet. Lily was there, though, curled up on the sofa with her legs tucked under her, reading something on her tablet. A soft lamp glowed beside her, throwing delicate shadows across her face.

David stood for a moment, simply watching her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, or maybe she had and just didn’t care. Either way, irritation prickled at him.

He cleared his throat. “Waiting up for me?”

Lily didn’t look up. “No. Don’t flatter yourself. I was just reading.”

The dismissal stung, though he wouldn’t admit it. He moved closer, his steps heavy against the floor. “I need to ask you something.”

That caught her attention. She raised her eyes to him, calm, steady, unafraid. “About what?”

David narrowed his gaze. “Aurora. Where is she?”

For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of amusement cross her face. Then she set her tablet down and leaned back into the sofa cushions, folding her arms. “Why would I know that?”

“You’ve been acting strange,” he pressed, lowering his voice. “Always smirking, as if you know more than you’re saying. Tell me, Lily—are you in contact with her?”

Lily tilted her head, lips curving. “And if I was?”

His jaw tightened. “Then you’ll tell me. Now.”

“Why?” Her tone was light, mocking. “So you can strike another deal and act like the almighty savior again?”

He leaned down, bracing his hand on the arm of the sofa so that his face was inches from hers. “Because it concerns me.”

“No, David,” she said softly, almost tenderly, but there was steel underneath. “It doesn’t concern you. We’re already divorced, remember? You just haven’t signed the papers yet. That means whatever Aurora does or whoever I meet has nothing to do with you.”

Her breath hitched, and against her will, her lips parted for him.

The taste of her—sweet, familiar, and yet tinged with bitterness—made his head spin. He hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought beyond demanding answers, but once he touched her, once he felt her soft lips under his, the need to keep kissing her drowned out everything else.

His hand slid from her wrist to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She gasped softly against his mouth, her fingers curling involuntarily into his shirt.

It was supposed to be just a kiss to weaken her guard. But somewhere in the heat of it, David forgot his purpose. He forgot Aurora, forgot Claire, forgot everything except the woman trembling in his arms.

Lily hated herself for responding, for the way her heart raced like it always had whenever he touched her. Three years of silence, indifference, distance none of it erased the ache that lingered deep inside her. She kissed him back, just for a moment, as though they were the only two people in the world.

For a fleeting second, it felt almost like the beginning again, before the coldness, before the distance.

But reality came crashing in.

With sudden force, Lily pressed her palms against his chest and shoved him away, breaking the kiss. Her breathing was uneven, her cheeks flushed, eyes shimmering with something she couldn’t name.

David froze, lips still tingling from the taste of her, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“Don’t,” Lily whispered, her voice trembling but firm. “Don’t confuse me, David. You don’t get to do this anymore.”