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His Wife’s Secretary: A Husband’s Betrayal - Chapter 45

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Lena

Lena sat at her desk, her gaze fixed on the email in front of her, though the words blurred together into an

unreadable mess. The office was quiet, save for the soft tapping of David’s keyboard from the corner. He was

going through a stack of paperwork, his head bent in concentration. It had been weeks of this—David working

quietly, efficiently, always a st ep ahead of what she needed, always anticipating how to make her life easier. It

was maddening. Not because he wasn’t good at it—he was—but because every small gesture, every perfectly

timed action, chipped away at the wall she’d so carefully built around herself. She hated that she noticed how

his dark hair gleamed in the light when he leaned forward, hated that her stomach flipped every time their hands

brushed as he passed her a document. “Here,” David said, breaking her spiraling thoughts. He st epped to her

desk and set a folder down, his tone calm and casual, as if this were any other day. “I flagged a couple of things

in the vendor contract. You’ll probably want to push back on clause six.” Lena stared at the folder, her chest

tightening. It was such a small thing—routine, even—but the care he’d put into it, the quiet way he always

seemed to know what she needed before she did, made something inside her snap. She pushed her chair back

abruptly, the wheels scraping against the floor. “David,” she said, her voice trembling.

He froze, his brow furrowing as he searched her face. “What is it? Did I mess something up?” “No,” she said

quickly, shaking her head. “It’s not that. It’s... it’s too much.” David’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t move

away. “What do you mean?” She stood, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to find the words.

“I mean, you’re here—every day, doing everything right, being exactly who you always should have been—and

I can’t... I can’t take it anymore.” Her voice cracked, and she turned away, her hands gripping the edge of her

desk for support. “I still love you, David. God help me, I love you and I wish I didn’t.” The silence that

followed was deafening. Lena squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for his response, waiting for the inevitable

rejection or confusion or anything that would make this hurt less. But what came instead was the sound of

movement—a soft rustle, a shift in the air. When she opened her eyes, David was on his knees before her, his

hands gently gripping her hips. His face was tilted up, his expression raw and open, his eyes shimmering with

unshed tears. “Lena,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please. Don’t hate yourself for this. Don’t think for a second

that you’re betraying anything or anyone by loving me.” She tried to pull away, but his grip held firm—not

tight, not forceful, but steady. “David, get up,” she said, her voice cracking again. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, his tone fierce and unyielding. “Because I’m not too proud to admit that I’ll take you any

way you’ll have me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for what I did if you let me. I’ll be your

secretary, your assistant, the dirt on your shoe—I don’t care. As long as I can be near you, Lena.” Her hands

flew to her face, covering her mouth as the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over. “This isn’t how

it’s supposed to work,” she said, her words muffled. “You don’t take back someone who betrayed you. You

don’t... you don’t forgive that.” His head tilted up, his face earnest and pleading. “I’m not that man,” he said,

his voice trembling with intensity. “I am entirely changed. I am the one who betrayed you, yes, but the man you

would be taking back has been reborn by pain. I hate who I was. For you, and for me, I have changed into a

better man. For you, Lena.” Her hands dropped from her face, her tear-streaked eyes staring down at him, her

vision blurred but unflinching. “It feels weak,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It feels like I’m letting

myself down.” “No,” he said firmly, his palms sliding from her hips to grasp her hands in his. “It’s not weak to

follow your heart. It’s not weak to want love, to want me, if that’s what you feel. And I swear to you, Lena, I’ll

never take that for granted again.” His hands were trembling as they clung to hers, his desperation, his sincerity,

radiating from every inch of him. She could feel the weight of his words, the way they pulled at something de ep

inside her, loosening the knot of anger and guilt and self-doubt that had been choking her for so long. She sank

down slowly, her knees meeting the floor as she faced him, their hands still clasped. “David,” she said softly,

her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so scared.” “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “So am I.

But I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you don’t have to be.”

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