Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 117

They never spoke about it, but each knew that Megan’s first touches since her return were reluctant.

Even when, on occasion, she felt a fleeting rush of pleasure.

Tonight was clearly different.

Amid the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Sullivan’s tenderness was palpable. His every move seemed measured and thoughtful as if each caress carried the weight of his concern not to hurt her or to cause any distaste. He whispered into her ear to ask if she was

comfortable.

Megan wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips sealed with silence. Yet her body could not lie. That night, after three years of marriage, they found a depth of satisfaction that was profoundly mutual.

Afterwards, Megan soaked in a bubble bath.

Sullivan, in his trousers and a crisp shirt, settled on the patio to feel the breeze and smoke a cigarette.

The night wind teased his neatly trimmed hair and softened his usually stern features. From the bathroom, he heard the stir of Megan finishing her bath, knowing her ritual of blow–drying her hair and applying her skincare would yet consume a good part of the evening.

Leaning back in his chair, Sullivan flicked through his phone casually.

new message blinked

primary doctor, which detailed her latest diagnosis: [Mr. Lowry, the IV administered to Ms. Baldwin last visit contained a prohibited substance. Despite immediate intervention, it has caused irreversible damage to her organs. After consulting with specialists, we believe Ms. Baldwin may not

listed the medication

the name, his long fingers clenching the phone

he closed his eyes. His mood plummeted, the elation from

a long pause, he made

icy, “Did you have a hand in what happened to Cressida? Don’t you think your hands are stained with too much

Cressida.*

person on the other end was silent before replying with

Memories flooded him like a tide–the man leaving with his suitcase, a dignified while hysterical woman chasing after him, and their young son hidden in the stairwell

Go be with her! What is she to have you so head over

the man left

on the floor, muttering,

children with another woman?”

me! You’re my husband; how can you be intimate and

those words, but unaware

a shadow over the next twenty years of