Chapter 3 You Are The Only Woman I Love

Color drained from her face, and Melinda stood there as though time had suddenly stopped.

A brief shadow of hurt passed through her eyes, and Kevan noticed it clearly.

Despite that silent plea, his tone remained distant. "I have explained this to you repeatedly. My fear of germs is not something I can simply ignore."

Desperation edged into her voice as Melinda tried again. "But, baby, I..."

The diagnosis echoed in her mind, and the restless ache within her body reminded her that she needed relief more than ever.

Patience had long since worn thin, and she felt as though she were standing at the brink of collapse.

"Please. I truly do not feel well. I need you." Her lower lip quivered between her teeth, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Air slipped in and out of her lungs in uneven breaths.

An intense craving stirred within her, and it refused to quiet down.

Thoughts of intimacy circled through her mind.

Every attempt to suppress those urges only made them return with greater force.

A crease formed between his brows as Kevan studied her expression.

Irritation flickered in his eyes because he had always disliked the way she appeared so openly desperate in front of him.

A chill entered his voice as he rebuked her. "If you are that desperate, then handle it on your own."

The contempt in his tone struck her like a slap, landing precisely where she was most vulnerable.

Without sparing her a hint of sympathy, he dismissed the pain in her expression and continued in the same detached manner, "And I do not want to see you dressed like that in front of me again."

Light faded from Melinda's tearful eyes almost instantly.

An ache, sharp and bitter, unfurled across her chest.

The reality that Kevan still refused even the smallest touch cut deeper than she had expected.

"I understand." Barely lifting her gaze, she forced the words out in a faint whisper.

"From now on, you will not be sleeping in my room." Cold finality laced his next statement as Kevan looked at her with open distaste.

Shock flashed across her face as Melinda met his eyes. "What do you mean?"

A frigid warning slipped from Kevan's lips. "I will be staying in the next room from now on. Do not step into my space without my consent."

Without sparing her another glance, he rose and walked out.

Left alone, Melinda stood motionless.

Moisture gathered along her lashes before she could hold it back.

More than a year had passed since their wedding, yet the absence of intimacy and his constant detachment had slowly driven her into a fragile emotional state.

Instead of offering support as a husband should, he chose this moment to distance himself even further by separating their bedrooms.

To Melinda, that decision felt like a fresh wound layered over an old one.

The warmth that had briefly filled the room vanished as soon as he stepped out, and a hollow chill settled in its place.

Inside her, however, the restless yearning refused to quiet down and seemed to burn with renewed intensity.

Kevan's rejection cut deeply, and the emotional strain began to spiral once more.

Discomfort spread through Melinda's entire body, leaving her feeling tense, unsettled, and painfully alone.

An intense wave of unmet desire swept over her and left her trembling.

A strained whisper escaped her lips. "This feels unbearable. I want it so badly."

Heat flooded her cheeks as her thoughts betrayed her, and the memory of Lorenzo standing over her during the examination surfaced without warning.

Alarmed by the direction of her mind, Melinda shook her head as if that alone could scatter the image.

Confusion tightened around her heart because she could not understand why his face would appear at such a moment.

She was a married woman, yet her imagination had wandered somewhere it should not.

Guilt pricked at her conscience, and she questioned how she had allowed herself to become so reckless in thought.

Still, the truth remained that Kevan continued to keep his distance and refused even the smallest gesture of closeness.

Despite the title of wife, she often felt as though she lived alone.

Once more, Lorenzo's image crept back into her mind, especially the way he had looked at her outside the hospital when he told her to get into his car.

He possessed a striking charm that rivaled, and even surpassed Kevan's.

For a fleeting and dangerous second, a forbidden impulse stirred within her.

Startled by herself, Melinda pressed her lips together and forced that unethical desire back into the shadows.

Even though Kevan had never once laid a hand on her, the thought of entertaining another man still felt like a betrayal in its own quiet way. To her, even a wandering mind counted as a form of unfaithfulness.

However, discipline slipped through her fingers tonight, and she no longer had the strength to restrain herself.

A nervous tremor ran through her fingers as she reached for the drawer beside the bed and slowly pulled it open. From its shadowed interior, she retrieved the item she had hidden there.

Throughout their marriage, each time Kevan turned her away, and her emotions spiraled out of control, she had soothed herself by imagining that it was him. That had always been her way of calming the storm inside her chest.

However, this evening carried a strange shift she could not ignore.

Instead of picturing her distant husband, her thoughts drifted elsewhere. The face that surfaced in her mind belonged to Lorenzo, the doctor.

...

Time dragged on before relief finally washed over Melinda's weary body.

A thin sheen of moisture clung faintly to the corner of her lips.

Exhaustion pressed down on her limbs until she felt hollowed out from within.

As she struggled to steady her breathing, a sobering realization settled over her that she could not continue living like this.

Without wasting another second, she forced herself out of bed, seized her handbag, and searched for the medication the hospital had prescribed earlier that day.

Not a single drop of water remained in her bedroom.

In response, she hastily slipped into a loose garment and made her way downstairs, intending to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen so she could swallow her medication.

While moving past Kevan's room, an unusual and restrained groan drifted through the door, stopping her in her tracks.

As a mature woman, Melinda did not need anyone to explain what that kind of sound suggested.

Compelled by unease, she edged closer and glanced through the narrow gap of the half-open door.

Under the faint glow of the bedside lamp, Kevan came into view as he sat at the edge of his mattress, touching himself while fixated on a photograph in his hand.

A strained sound caught in his throat as his Adam's apple moved, and in a hoarse whisper, he said, "Sloane, you are the only one I desire. You are the only woman I love."

Shock rooted Melinda to the floor. For a fleeting moment, her thoughts deserted her completely.

Disbelief flooded her expression as her eyes grew wide.

Sloane Douglas was none other than the daughter of her father's lawful wife.

Simon Douglas lived a double life, dividing his loyalties between a lawful marriage and a long-standing affair.

By his side stood Belen Douglas as his legal wife, and together they had a daughter named Sloane.

Beyond that marriage, he kept Kathryn Phillips as his lover, and she bore him two children, a son and a daughter, the latter being Melinda herself. Because of his wealth and influence, he did not bother to hide Kathryn, and he installed her openly in his residence.

At the moment Alec Douglas was born, Simon ensured that Belen would raise the boy as if he were her own child.

Unlike her brother, Melinda remained with Kathryn throughout her childhood, growing up under her biological mother's roof.

Even so, warmth and tenderness were things she rarely received from Kathryn.

In truth, Kathryn's affection leaned heavily toward Alec, and she even treated Sloane with more care than she ever showed Melinda.

When it came to Melinda's future, Kathryn showed no real concern and allowed Alec and Belen to make decisions about her marriage.

Before accepting Kevan as her husband, Melinda had discreetly gathered information and discovered that he was seeking a bride from the Douglas family, and that knowledge ultimately persuaded her to go through with the wedding.

Back then, she had firmly believed that she was the woman who held his heart.

Only now did the truth begin to surface, and it became painfully clear that she had misread everything.

In reality, the person Kevan cherished had always been Sloane.

Because his status as an illegitimate son placed him beneath Sloane's standing, he chose Melinda as a substitute instead.

After the wedding, however, he consistently avoided sleeping with her and claimed that his extreme aversion to physical contact was due to a fear of germs.

And Melinda had accepted that explanation without question.

She finally saw how foolish she had been.

Rather than reach for his own wife, Kevan chose to satisfy himself in solitude.

He was saving every part of himself for Sloane.

From the time they were children, the entire Douglas family had revolved around Sloane.

In Simon's eyes, Sloane had always been the one who could do no wrong.

Affection from both Belen and Kathryn had always centered on Sloane, and they treated her as someone precious beyond measure.

By contrast, Melinda had long understood that she stood at the very bottom of the Douglas family hierarchy.

Neither Simon nor Belen, nor even Kathryn, who had given birth to her, ever showed genuine fondness toward her.

Marriage once appeared to her as a doorway to a different future, one where she might finally belong somewhere.

Instead of finding comfort, she discovered that even Kevan's devotion had never been hers to claim.

A sharp sense of irony settled in Melinda's chest, and it left a bitter taste she could not ignore.

Each time Kevan whispered Sloane's name with longing, the sound cut into her like a blade.

Through the haze clouding her thoughts, memories surfaced of Kevan visiting her family before their wedding.

During those visits, he had carried himself with calm restraint and unfailing patience, and he had looked every bit the considerate gentleman.

Whenever he arrived, he made sure to place a carefully chosen gift in her hands.

Because of those gestures, she had gradually formed a deep impression of him.

Only now did the truth reveal itself with cruel clarity, and she realized that those visits had never been meant for her.

From the very beginning, his footsteps had always led him there for Sloane.