The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 45

The First Kiss

Alina struggled–hands pushing Daniel’s chest desperately, head trying to turn away from the lips pressing firmly against hers.

But Daniel’s hand behind her head was too strong. His position too calculated.

She couldn’t break free.

Water from Daniel’s mouth flowed–carrying the bitter medicine forcibly into Alina’s mouth. She had no choice but to swallow, or choke.

She swallowed.

The medicine went down her throat with a burning, bitter sensation that made her want to vomit.

But Daniel didn’t release her.

It should have been over. The medicine was in. Mission accomplished.

But Daniel’s lips were still pressed to hers–no longer forcing, but… something else.

Something softer. Deeper.

More… intimate.

Alina froze–shock overwhelming anger for a moment–as she realized Daniel wasn’t just forcing her to take medicine.

He was kissing her.

Really kissing her.

For the first time in their five years of marriage.

Daniel’s lips moved against hers with slow, deliberate movements, as if memorizing every contour. The hand behind her head no longer forcing–just holding, with gentle firmness that made Alina unable to think clearly.

This was wrong.

So wrong

But her body didn’t move. Didn’t struggle anymore. Just froze in confusion and shock and something more dangerous–something that felt like yearning buried too long.

Tears began to flow without Alina realizing.

Hot on her cheeks. Salty at the corner of her lips.

Why now?

Why after five years of being ignored, after five years of sleeping alone, after five years of feeling invisible—why was Daniel only touching her now?

After Clarissa returned,

After Junior was taken from her.

After all the pain and disappointment and betrayal.

Why now, when it was already too late?

Her tears flowed harder. Her body began to tremble–not from desire, but from overwhelming grief.

Grief for five wasted years. For a marriage that never really happened. For love that was never returned.

Daniel felt the change.

Felt the tremor in Alina’s body. Felt the salty wetness on his lips that wasn’t from the water earlier.

He opened his eyes–perhaps just realizing what he was doing–and saw tears streaming down Alina’s face.

He released the kiss suddenly, pulling back slightly to see clearly.

Alina stared at him with eyes full of tears–eyes that were broken, furious, devastated.

Then her hand moved quick, instinctive—

SLAP!

The slap echoed in the quiet room.

Daniel’s cheek reddened instantly, but he didn’t move. Didn’t dodge. Just stared at Alina with clear shock on his

face.

“I hate you,” Alina whispered in a broken, trembling voice. “I hate you so much, Daniel.”

Then she turned, buried her face in the pillow, and cried.

Cried with her whole body shaking. Cried with muffled sounds but clearly desperate, heartbroken.

Cried for everything that was lost. For everything that never happened.

Daniel sat there–frozen–with his hand still raised in the position where he had been holding Alina.

Staring at her trembling back. Hearing her muffled sobs into the pillow.

The shock on his face slowly changed to something else.

Realization, perhaps.

Or regret.

Or guilt that finally, finally, hit him with full force.

He raised his hand–as if wanting to touch Alina, comfort her, say… something-

But lowered it again.

We could he say?

A

“Sorry“? For what, exactly? For kissing her without permission? For five years of ignoring her? For bringing Clarissa back? For destroying her life piece by piece?

Those words were too small. Too inadequate for the damage he had already done.

So he just sat there.

Silent.

Listening to his wife cry.

Feeling something in his chest twist–something painful, unfamiliar.

Guilt.

Real, genuine guilt.

For the first time, seeing Alina cry made his chest hurt in a way he didn’t understand.

He had seen Alina cry before–many times during these five years. When anniversaries were ignored. When he came home late with Clarissa’s perfume scent. When Margaret said something cruel at the dinner table.

But he had never cared before. Never felt anything but mild annoyance or indifference.

Why was it different now?

Why now, seeing her tears, hearing her sobs, made something inside him want to fix, protect, comfort?

When did it change?

Daniel didn’t know.

And that made him more frustrated.

Time passed–how long, Daniel didn’t know–with only the sound of Alina’s crying gradually subsiding.

Turning into quiet sobs.

Then irregular breathing.

Then… silence.

Daniel stared at her back that no longer moved.

“Alina?” he called softly, tentatively.

No answer.

He waited a moment, then called again. “Alina.”

Still no answer.

Slowly, carefully, Daniel leaned over to see her face.

Her eyes were closed. Her breathing deep and regular though not steady. Her eyelashes still wet with tears. Her cheeks still had traces of wetness.

was asleep.

Exhaustion and the effect of the antibiotic finally made her body surrender, even in the midst of heartbreak.

Daniel sat there for a long time, just staring at her.

Staring at a face he had seen almost every day for five years but never really seen.

A face that was beautiful though pale. A face that even in sleep looked sad.

Something in his chest twisted again.

Slowly, very slowly, Daniel lay back down on the bed.

He stared at the ceiling briefly, hearing Alina’s irregular breathing even in sleep.

Then–with careful movements, as if afraid to wake or hurt her further he pulled Alina into his embrace.

Alina was unconscious. Didn’t protest. Just lay there with her head on Daniel’s chest, still asleep in exhaustion.

Daniel stared at her face from close range–seeing the dried tear tracks, seeing lips slightly swollen from the earlier kiss, seeing an expression that even in sleep looked broken.

And for the first time in… maybe forever… he felt like a monster.

He brought his hand to Alina’s face–gentle, tentative–and wiped away the remaining tears with his thumb.

Then kissed her forehead.

Soft. Barely there.

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