The Husband Who Fell in Love With Me Twice

At 3 a.m., my husband remembered where he lived, and I remembered why I had stopped hoping.

SELENE

Beep... Beep... Beep...

My hands froze on the refrigerator handle.

For a moment, I just stood there, heart stuttering at the sharp sound of the door code being entered incorrectly. The living room was dim, shadows stretching lazily across the walls as I squinted toward the wall clock.

3:00 a.m.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The sound came again, more frantic this time. I heard muffled curses from the other side of the door, metal clinking as someone fumbled aggressively with the keypad.

I closed the fridge slowly and stepped away from it, my fingers curling around the hem of my nightdress. My chest tightened, not with fear, but with a dull, familiar resignation.

The lock finally clicked.

The door creaked open.

I took a step back and quickly turned on the light.

Sebastian stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, one hand braced against the doorframe as he muttered under his breath. He tugged at his tie, struggling to loosen it.

He was drunk.

And I wasn't shocked. Not even a little.

Sebastian Kingsley only remembered this house when he was drunk. Sober, it didn't exist to him.

You might wonder why I didn't panic at the strange sound of someone failing my door code in the middle of the night. The truth was simple, he was the only one who ever came here at odd hours.

We've been married for three years, yet sometimes I forgot I was even a wife. Sebastian hated my presence and barely lived in this house. We were not a loving, doting couple. There were no late-night conversations, no shared routines, no warmth between us.

If it hadn't been for our families arranging this marriage, Sebastian wouldn't have looked at me twice.

And now, here he was, stumbling into the home he refused to acknowledge as his, wearing the ring that bound us both, yet living a life that never included me.

He rolled his eyes the moment he caught sight of me, teetering unsteadily toward my direction.

"Why is it always so bright in this house?" His words were slurred, each one dragging lazily from his lips. He ran a hand through his messy hair, fingers tangling in the strands. "Can't a man come in without a spotlight?"

"I... I can turn it off if you don't like it." I managed to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands hovered near the switch, unsure whether to actually obey.

Sebastian glanced at me, eyes half-lidded, then pushed past me with one careless hand. I stumbled slightly, my chest clenching as my foot caught the edge of the rug, but I didn't protest. He wasn't aggressive. He was just too drunk to notice the ripple of imbalance he left in his wake.

"Ah..." He sighed, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic thud. One hand fell to his forehead, the other draped loosely over the armrest. His eyes were closed, and suddenly, the room felt heavy with his presence.

I stayed rooted in place, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, knuckles whitening, before finally turning toward my room.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

With a quiet sigh, I opened the closet and pulled out a neatly folded blanket. For a moment, I just stood there, the fabric warm against my palms, and I paused.

It was ridiculous, wasn't it? That I still cared for him after everything. After the cold stares, the dismissive words. The way he made it clear, from the very beginning, that I was never meant to matter.

I remembered his voice clearly, cutting through whatever hope I had on the night we married.

"I married you because it was arranged. Don't mistake that for affection. Keep your distance, or you'll only hurt yourself."

And yet... here I was, hesitating, lingering over a small act of kindness I knew he didn't deserve.

I sighed softly, and returned to the living room. He lay on the couch, sprawled in careless disarray.

Carefully, I approached, crouching low to tug off his shoes. He stirred in his sleep, kicking slightly at me, but I remained still, placing the shoes neatly on the floor. I draped the blanket over him with careful fingers, tucking it around his shoulders as gently as I could.

My hands lingered on the fabric as I crouched again, studying his face.

Sleep softened his features, but even like this, Sebastian Kingsley was devastatingly handsome.

He was the kind of man who drew attention without trying. The youngest billionaire in the country. The sole heir to Kingsley Group. A man with everything.

Everything except me.

I had watched him with countless women, watched him chase them even after our marriage.

He let out a low, sleepy moan. His hand reached up to ruffle through his hair, and my gaze inevitably drifted to our wedding ring glinting on his finger. What purpose did it serve, I wondered, if he never acknowledged the bond it represented?

I pulled my eyes away from the ring, feeling a sharp pang of regret in my chest. Why had I even bothered to drape him with a blanket? My hands felt foolish, heavy with all the hope I had been holding onto for three years.

I took a tentative step back, ready to retreat, when his hand clamped firmly around mine.

I gasped, startled, and looked down at him. His eyes were still closed. My instincts screamed at me to pull away, but before I could move, he tugged me toward him. I stumbled, falling to the couch beside him.

Another gasp escaped me as he shifted, turning so that our faces were barely an inch apart. His warm breath brushed against my cheek, his lips so close I could feel the faint heat of them. My cheeks burned, a bright, helpless red. Three years of marriage, and I had never been this close to him.

I should have pulled away.

I should have stood.

I should have...

But my thoughts died when his eyes fluttered open.

"I... I..." I scrambled for words, panic rising in my chest. He might think I tried to take advantage of him. My lips parted, ready to protest. "I didn't-"

The words vanished as he lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. There was no anger in his gaze, no accusation. Only... focus. Only attention.

"You're pretty."

My heart stuttered violently, as if it had forgotten how to beat. Had Sebastian just... called me pretty?

Before I could process it, his lips brushed against mine in a soft, fleeting kiss. My entire body froze. I was beyond stunned.

"I don't know what I'd do without you... Irene."

My chest collapsed.

Irene.

Not Selene.

Not me.

My lips trembled as the truth settled in.

Right. Of course. There was never a chance this tenderness belonged to me.

I pulled away carefully and rose from the couch, as if any sound might shatter what little dignity I had left.

After three years, I should have known better than to hope.

Because no matter what I did...

I would always remain invisible to him.

I had prepared for heartbreak, but not for this.

SELENE

"I want a divorce."

The words trembled on my lips as I stared at the envelope clutched in my hands, the thick cream paper inside heavy with finality.

"Three years with you have been hell and I... I..." My voice cracked. I squeezed my eyes shut as pain flooded my chest.

"No, Selene. No."

I opened my eyes and met my reflection in the mirror. She looked tired. Hollow. Like someone who had cried too much and hoped for too long.

"We had practiced this for days." I whispered bitterly to myself. "And you still couldn't say it."

With a shaky breath, I opened the envelope and slid out the divorce papers. The edges trembled between my fingers.

It had taken me three years to finally gather the courage to leave this hell disguised as marriage. Three years of silence, endurance, and pretending everything was fine.

What had taken me so long?

Fear? Hope? Foolish love that was never returned?

I had loved Sebastian. Truly. Even now, the memory still burned of how the younger me used to watch him from afar, of how my heart used to race with a foolish crush I never thought would matter. When our families decided we would marry to strengthen business ties, I hadn't been angry. I hadn't been afraid.

A part of me had even been... hopeful.

Maybe this was fate, I had thought.

Maybe this was my chance.

Even when he treated me like I didn't exist, I had held on. I had convinced myself I could change him, that I could fix what was broken inside him. I believed that if I loved him hard enough, patiently enough, he would eventually love me too.

How naïve I had been.

It wasn't until I heard another woman's name fall from his lips in his sleep that reality finally shattered my illusion. In that moment, everything became painfully clear.

I would never be the one he wanted.

I would never be the woman he loved.

So I stopped hoping.

I stopped believing.

I accepted the truth that nothing between us would ever change.

And I made my decision.

I wouldn't trap him in this marriage any longer. Because deep down, I knew... he wanted this divorce more than anyone. He just didn't want to be the one to say it. So he pushed me away. Frustrated me, hurt me, waited for me to give up.

He won.

I lost.

My gaze dropped to the documents again, my heart pounding wildly, as if begging me to change my mind. But I didn't. I straightened my shoulders and nodded slowly, as if answering myself.

"I've got this." I whispered.

Then I turned toward my room, ready to dress up and face the end of a story I had once believed would last forever.

Earlier today, I had sent Sebastian a message, asking him to come home because I needed to talk to him about something important. As expected, he saw it and ignored it.

He left no reply.

No acknowledgment.

I told myself it didn't matter. Whether he responded or not, all that mattered was that he showed up.

I walked into my closet and my eyes landed on the red lace dress I had bought recently. I had chosen it for today. If this was the end, I wanted to look beautiful while saying it.

So I slipped it on, applied light makeup, and stared at my reflection for a long moment before forcing myself to turn away.

Then I walked to the living room.

I placed the envelope carefully on the table, as if it were fragile, and sat on the couch. The ticking of the wall clock echoed loudly in the quiet room.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

My heart raced with it.

It was 7:30 p.m.

Just thirty minutes left.

My palms were damp, my legs restless, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts I couldn't control. I kept glancing at the door, half-dreading, half-waiting for it to open.

Desperate for any kind of distraction, I grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

The screen flickered to life.

And there he was.

Sebastian Kingsley in an interview.

A bitter scoff escaped my lips. "I asked for a distraction and this is what I get instead." I muttered.

I let the remote slip from my fingers, where it landed softly beside me on the couch. My back sank into the cushions as boredom crept in, the host's endless business questions washing over me like meaningless noise. They talked about stocks, expansion, profit margins. The same old story.

I yawned just as the host leaned forward and smiled brightly at the camera.

"So, Mr. Kingsley," she said playfully, "how is married life treating you?"

My heart jolted. I straightened instantly, every trace of drowsiness gone.

Sebastian chuckled effortlessly, like he'd rehearsed this moment.

"Married life?" He repeated, then shrugged casually. "Honestly, I've been swamped with work. The company has been expanding, and that's my main focus right now."

Work.

Always work.

My lips pressed into a thin line. What on earth had I been expecting?

The host laughed. "You always manage to dodge that question." She teased. "Every time we bring up your wife, you change the subject."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "You know, if it weren't for the wedding ring on your finger, no one would even know you're married."

The audience burst into laughter.

But I didn't.

My gaze dropped to the screen, to the silver band circling his finger. That was the only proof that I existed in his world. And even that... meant nothing.

Sebastian simply smiled, saying nothing.

And somehow, his silence hurt more than any cruel words ever could.

My eyes burned. I rose from the couch and walked unsteadily to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. I poured wine and downed it in one gulp.

"I won't cry." I whispered to myself. Just for today, I refused to let a single tear fall.

With the bottle of wine in one hand and the glass in the other, I walked back to the couch and sank into it slowly. I took slow sips, pretending it was enough to numb the ache inside me.

Time blurred.

My eyelids grew heavy, sleep threatening to pull me under when I suddenly jolted upright. I blinked and turned toward the wall clock.

10:00 p.m.

And Sebastian still wasn't home.

A bitter sigh escaped my lips as I reached for my phone from the table. Maybe he had sent a message. Maybe an apology. An excuse.

Nothing. My screen remained painfully empty.

My brows furrowed and something hot twisted in my chest. Without thinking, my fingers flew across the screen, typing aggressively, pouring out every unspoken thought I had swallowed for three long years.

"You said you'd be home by eight. It's ten now.

I just wanted to talk, is that too much to ask?"

I hit send, my fingers trembling. But the words weren't enough. The hurt inside me kept spilling.

"I can't keep doing this anymore, Sebastian. Being invisible in my own marriage is killing me."

I sent it before I could change my mind.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

The small blue ticks appeared-seen.

Still no reply.

Against my better judgment, I did the one thing he had warned me never to do.

I called him.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang again.

Just when I thought he wouldn't pick up, the call connected.

I didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Do you enjoy this?" I burst out, my voice shaking. "Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?"

Three years of swallowed pain poured out all at once.

"I don't deserve to be treated this way." I whispered, my voice breaking as the tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over. "I can't do this anymore. I want a divorce. I'll disappear from your life for good. Hope you're happy now."

There was no answer.

Just silence and the faint hum of an engine on the other end of the line.

Even after everything I said, he still ignored me.

"I hate you, Sebastian Kingsley." I muttered, before ending the call. The moment the line went dead, I broke down completely, sobbing like my heart was being torn apart piece by piece.

I didn't know how long I cried. Minutes? Hours? Time lost meaning.

Then my phone rang.

But I was beyond shocked to see the caller was Sebastian.

He never called. Not once. Was this his way of telling me he wanted the divorce too?

I almost ignored it. But the phone kept ringing, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet room. With shaky fingers, I finally picked up, saying nothing.

"Hello?"

The voice wasn't his.

It was a woman.

I closed my eyes, exhaustion washing over me. How much more does he plan to hurt me?

"Hello, is this Mrs. Kingsley?" The voice asked again, polite and calm.

"Yes." I replied coldly, reaching for my glass of wine. "So?"

"I'm calling from Evercare Hospital."

My grip tightened around the glass.

"This is to inform you that your husband was involved in a tragic accident, and your presence is urgently required here."

The glass slipped from my hand and shattered against the floor.

Sebastian... had an accident?

I had been ready to end us... yet I wasn't ready to lose him.

SELENE

I sat in the cold surgical waiting room, my hands clenched tightly in my lap, staring at the sterile walls. Time felt cruel and slow, stretching endlessly. The sharp scent of disinfectant burned my nose, pressed down on my chest like a weight I couldn't lift.

I had never been this scared in my entire life.

My mind wouldn't stop replaying everything I had said to him, the anger, the hurt, the words I threw at him over the phone. I had lashed out when he couldn't even defend himself.

Little did I know... he had been fighting for his life.

My gaze dropped to my trembling hands, and a single tear slipped free, landing on my knuckles. I had told him I hated him. I had said I wanted him out of my life.

But I never meant this.

I never wanted to lose him like this.

Please, God... don't take him away from me.

As I sat there praying, lost in my thoughts, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Voices followed, urgent and anxious. I lifted my head and turned to see Sebastian's family rushing toward me.

I quickly stood as my mother-in-law approached, her face pale with fear.

"Where is he?" She asked, her eyes scanning my face desperately.

"He's still in the operating theatre." I replied softly.

Nora, Sebastian's sister, let out a sharp breath. "How could this even happen?" She cried, then her gaze snapped to me. "My brother is fighting for his life and you're dressed like you're going to a party."

Her words cut deep.

I hadn't even thought about my clothes. I had rushed out of the house the moment I got the call, still wearing the dress I had chosen for this day. I glanced down at the red lace fabric, suddenly feeling ashamed, but I said nothing.

"Do you even care about him?" She snapped again.

Before I could answer, Mr. Kingsley's firm voice cut through the tension. "That's enough, Nora."

He turned to me, gentler now. "How long has he been in there?"

"About an hour now." I answered. He sighed heavily and fell silent.

They took seats on the cold chairs while I remained standing beside Julian, Sebastian's stepbrother.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, concern etched on his face.

I nodded slowly. He and Mr. Kingsley were the only ones in this family I felt safe talking to.

Just then, the operating theatre doors swung open.

Sebastian was wheeled out by nurses.

We all rushed forward, but Nora shoved me aside, pushing me back.

"My son... Sebastian." Mrs. Kingsley cried. "How is he? Is he going to be alright?"

"Please step aside." One of the nurses said calmly as they pushed the stretcher forward, heading toward the ward.

I watched helplessly as he was taken away from us.

The doors to the operating theatre opened again, and the main doctor stepped out. Instantly, all eyes turned toward him. He approached my father-in-law and greeted him politely.

"How did the surgery go?" Mr. Kingsley asked, worried.

"The surgery went well." The doctor said calmly. "He had internal bleeding, but we were able to stop it in time. Right now, he's stable."

A collective breath left us all at once. Relief washed through the hallway like a wave.

But the doctor wasn't finished.

"However," he continued, "he lost a lot of blood and his body is still weak. We'll be monitoring him closely for the next twenty-four hours. This period is very important."

"When will he wake up?" Mrs. Kingsley asked, clasping her hands together.

"That depends on how his body responds." The doctor replied gently. "It could be a few hours, or it might take longer. For now, he needs complete rest."

His gaze shifted then, settling on me.

"You're his wife, right?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Ah... yes." I murmured, barely audible as everyone turned to look at me.

"You can see him briefly once he's settled." The doctor said. "Try to stay calm when you do. Patients heal better when surrounded by peace."

Peace.

The word echoed in my mind.

I wasn't his peace though.

"Excuse me." The doctor said, bowing slightly to my father-in-law before walking away.

I stood frozen, wondering how I could give him peace when I had never been anything but a burden in his life.

***

Hours passed. Finally, we were allowed into his ward. But I couldn't go anywhere near him. His mother and sister crowded around his bed, their hands holding his, their voices whispering prayers. My legs ached as I sank onto a nearby couch, watching.

Sebastian's chest rose and fell slowly. He was still unconscious. The doctor had assured us he would wake up soon, but the fear refused to leave my heart.

Morning crept in quietly. I shifted on the couch, my neck stiff and aching from the awkward position I'd slept in. I was about to stretch when I heard Mrs. Kingsley's trembling voice.

"Sebastian."

She called his name again, louder this time.

Everyone rushed closer to his bed. My heart pounded as I stood and moved forward too. His eyelids fluttered... then slowly opened.

Relief crashed into me as I pressed a hand to my chest, breathing out shakily.

"You're finally awake." His mother cried, pulling him into a careful embrace.

He didn't respond.

"Call the doctor." Mr. Kingsley said quickly.

Julian rushed out of the room.

Mrs. Kingsley pulled back, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. "Thank you for coming back to me, my boy."

Sebastian's lips moved.

But no sound came out.

We all leaned in closer.

"What did you say?" His mother asked softly.

His voice finally came, low and confused.

"Who... are you?"

The smile on Mrs. Kingsley's face shattered instantly.

The door to the ward opened and the doctor walked in, Julian right behind him.

"Doctor..." Mrs. Kingsley rushed forward, her voice shaking. "He just asked who I am." Tears welled up in her eyes. "He doesn't recognize me. I'm his mother!"

The doctor lifted his hands gently, trying to calm her. "Please, don't panic." He said in a steady voice. "This can happen after a major surgery or head trauma. Sometimes patients wake up confused. It's not uncommon."

He turned his attention to Sebastian then, studying him carefully.

"Mr. Kingsley," the doctor called softly, "can you hear me?"

The room fell silent as everyone waited for his response.

"Yes." Sebastian answered.

The doctor nodded. "Good. Do you know where you are right now?"

Sebastian paused, his brows knitting together as if searching through a fog. After a moment, he spoke uncertainly. "A... hospital?"

"That's right." The doctor said encouragingly. Then he continued. "Do you recognize anyone in this room? Do any of these faces look familiar to you?"

My heart clenched. I instinctively took a step back, suddenly afraid of what he might say... or what he might not remember.

Sebastian's gaze slowly traveled around the room. First to his parents. Then to his sister. Then to Julian.

Finally, his eyes stopped on me.

They lingered.

Longer than I expected.

"My wife." He said quietly.

My breath hitched. That can't be...

"That's my wife." He repeated, his voice steadier now. "Selene."

The room went deathly silent.

And for the first time in three years...

Sebastian Kingsley looked at me like I mattered.