Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 119

Sullivan gazed at Megan’s serene face, glowing in the twilight’s gentle embrace, her beauty a soft whisper in th

He couldn’t help himself and leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered something saucy–a playful jest te would be innocent enough between loving spouses, but to Megan, it was repulsive.

Behind Sullivan, a maid peeked around the corner, curiosity etched on her face.

Megan’s voice was a gentle reminder, “Isn’t it time for dinner?”

Sullivan caught her slender wrist, chatting casually as they walked towards the dining room. He mentioned the evening’s special–crab, freshly delivered that afternoon.

“Isn’t that your favorite? Make sure you have an extra serving or two,” he said with a lighthearted nudge.

Megan offered a faint smile in return.

At dinner, she didn’t let her discontent show, nor did she confront her husband about his behavior.

When he played the doting lover, she played along.

Later that night, when Sullivan sought intimacy, Megan did not refuse. But just when the moment was upon them, her hands trembling, she reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small box, asking him to wear protection,

Sullivan paused, taken aback.

Truth be told, he didn’t like to use it, and perhaps neither did Megan,

longing for a child, mentioning how he was nearing thirty and many of his childhood

her fingers tenderly tracing the lines of his

So dashing!

was confident in swiftly winning her over, reigniting the spark she felt for him, Sullivan definitely

to find our rhythm, and besides, aren’t you swamped with work? I’d want you to have the energy

up,

moment, he agreed with a

usual routine

retreated to his

husband’s heart lies elsewhere. Though Megan bore his touch, she was acutely aware that Sullivan’s affections

their intimate moment, his eyes

moment of release.

it had something to do

her that what goes around comes around. Cressida’s misfortune with her medication

clothes in the laundry room. While emptying his pockets, she found an invitation to a private soiree, clearly in the handwriting

She returned Sullivan’s coat

she wrapped her

and she still harbored hopes for

She

inwardly, “Megan, you’re

& F F G