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 on

Cressida’s 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 have more than two years

message listed the

the name, his long fingers clenching the

the elation from his recent intimacy

pause, he made a

to Cressida? Don’t you think your hands are stained with too much already in trying to

Cressida.*

before replying with equal reserve, “Sullivan,

a tide–the man leaving with his suitcase, a dignified while hysterical woman chasing after him,

you leave this door! Go be with

the man

woman sat on the floor,

children with another woman?”

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

repeated those words, but unaware that the child was

cast a shadow over the next twenty years of his life, teaching him… not to love