Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 200

Chapter 200: Chapter 200: A woman involved with a married man
Lily had just stepped out of her room to refill the water jar when the doorbell rang. She expected it to be Gina, who hadn’t returned yet, but the moment she opened the door and saw Roger standing there, her brows knitted in surprise.

“How is it that you always end up at my door?” Lily couldn’t help but ask, a faint hint of exasperation lacing her tone.

But Roger didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The suddenness of it made Lily stumble back into the apartment, and the door swung shut behind him.

“Roger?” Lily’s voice was muffled against his chest, confusion swirling in her mind. He didn’t let go, his grip almost desperate. It was as if holding her was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Lily stood frozen, her hand awkwardly hovering over his back. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

But Roger remained silent, his face buried in the crook of her neck. She felt the faint tremor in his body, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. Finally, he pulled back just enough for her to see his face, and the redness in his eyes caught her off guard.

“Are you… crying because I scolded you?” She tried to joke, attempting to ease the tension clawing at her heart.

Roger’s gaze never left hers, and in the depths of his eyes, she saw something she hadn’t noticed before—fear, regret, and something else that twisted her stomach in knots.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. And then Roger spoke, his voice a strained whisper, “I was a fool, Lily. I thought letting you go meant giving you a chance at something better. But now… now I know what a terrible mistake I made.”

Lily’s breath caught. “Roger… what are you talking about?”

“Rita’s lies… Her deception is finally unraveling. And with every truth that comes out, I see how blind I was… how much I hurt you. And I can’t lose you again, Lily. Not now… not ever.”

Lily stood frozen, her mind racing to process Roger’s confession, which seemed to pour out in a relentless stream.

“I’m sorry it took me years to uncover the truth.” Roger’s voice was thick with regret, his gaze flickering with guilt. “But now that I have… I see how blind I was. I should have seen through her deception.”

Lily’s eyes never left his face, but there was a quiet, piercing clarity in her gaze—one that made Roger’s shoulders slump, his confidence crumbling under the weight of her silent judgment.

“The day you showed me those pictures and messages Rita sent you,” he continued, voice unsteady, “something stirred within me and I ended up investigating about that night at the graduation party.”

Lily’s expression remained unreadable, but her fingers tightened around the empty water jar, her knuckles pale against the ceramic.

“My informer, he found something,” Roger went on, his voice a low murmur, almost as if he feared the weight of his own words. “He confirmed my suspicion—Rita was the one who spiked my drink. She took me to that hotel.”

His confession hung heavily between them. The truth he had clung to for years was shattering, the fragments cutting deeper than he imagined.

“And today when I confronted Rita, I already knew she lied. But… but I still wasn’t sure if we—” He choked on the words, shame clouding his eyes. “The photos she sent you… the way I woke up… I thought… I thought I betrayed you.”

Lily’s face remained calm, but a faint twitch crossed her jawline, a brief crack in her composed demeanor. Hearing Roger spell out what she had already known—Rita’s manipulations, her cruel games—was like reopening an old wound she had tried so hard to forget.

But beneath the ache of betrayal, another emotion stirred—one she hadn’t expected. Sympathy. Roger was just as much a victim here—caught in a web of deceit he hadn’t even known existed until now. He hadn’t betrayed her; he had been betrayed himself.

A choked sound escaped Roger, a mix of desperation and vulnerability. “Do you believe me, Lily?” His voice was hoarse, raw with emotion. His shoulders slumped, his gaze pleading. In that moment, he looked utterly lost, a man clinging to the last thread of hope.

Lily’s hardened expression softened, and something within her unraveled. The ice around her heart melted as she stepped closer, her hand gently cupping his face. His skin was warm beneath her touch, but his tears were colder—silent streams that traced the lines of his cheeks.

“I believe you, Roger,” she whispered, her voice steady but tinged with regret. “I should have believed you the moment you told me you loved me. But everything that happened—your marriage with Rita, the pictures, the lies—it made me doubt. Not just you, but your love for me.”

Roger’s breath shuddered, his hands rising to cover hers, pressing them against his face as though grounding himself in her touch. “I should have never let her come between us. I should have fought harder… I should have trusted myself instead of the lies. I shouldn’t have been a coward.”

Lily’s thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tears that refused to stop. “We were both trapped in her web, Roger. But the difference is… I thought I was the only one hurting. I didn’t see that you were suffering too.”

“I was suffering because I thought I lost you,” Roger whispered, leaning into her touch. “I thought I’d ruined the only good thing I ever had. But now that I know the truth, I… I don’t want to lose you again, Lily.”

Silence settled between them, thick with unspoken emotions. But this time, it wasn’t suffocating. It was a fragile, hopeful quiet—a moment where wounds met healing.

Lily leaned forward, her forehead resting against his. “Then don’t make the same mistake twice, Roger. Don’t let fear and doubt decide for you.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice firm, the desperation replaced with quiet determination. “Not anymore.”

Their gazes met, and for the first time in years, Lily saw something in Roger’s eyes she hadn’t seen in so long—clarity, honesty, and an unyielding resolve.

And this time, when he leaned in, she didn’t pull away.

Desperation clawed at Roger, a hunger for the calmness that only Lily could bring. And when she didn’t pull away, when her touch remained warm against his face, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

His lips crashed against hers, fierce and unyielding, claiming her with the intensity he had buried for so long. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him, as if afraid she might vanish.

A soft, breathless moan escaped Lily’s lips, and her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

She kissed him back with the same fervor, her body melting into his. The world outside faded, leaving only the heat between them, the frantic beat of their hearts, and the raw passion that had simmered beneath the surface for years.

This wasn’t their first kiss. The memory of that night flashed in her mind—how she had been the one to close the distance, her lips finding his with tentative longing. That one kiss had left an indelible mark, a lingering ache that refused to fade.

But that night, she had known what she was getting herself into—falling for a man entangled in a marriage that was more a cage than a commitment. She had told herself she could walk away, that she would never allow herself to be the other woman. Yet, her heart had always been his, no matter how she tried to deny it.

Criticism may follow; whispers of judgment and disapproval will come. The world will question her—a woman involved with a married man. But they hadn’t seen the truth. They hadn’t seen the quiet agony in Roger’s eyes, the way he struggled with his own guilt and helplessness.

Lily had thought she was protecting herself by building walls, by pretending she was indifferent, that she had moved on. But now, with his lips against hers, with his touch so desperate, she realized something she had buried deep—

Her heart had forgiven Roger long ago. It was her pride that refused to admit it.

As they pulled back, breathless and trembling, Roger rested his forehead against hers, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Lily… I love you. I never stopped.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she managed a shaky smile. “Then don’t stop now, Roger. Don’t ever let go.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his lips brushing against hers again, gentler this time, a quiet reassurance that he wasn’t just chasing a fleeting moment—he was reclaiming the only love that ever mattered.

Just as their lips met again, a sudden, shrill ring shattered the cocoon of warmth they had built around themselves. Roger pulled back with a groan, his forehead resting against Lily’s for a brief, lingering second, frustration etched across his face.

“Seriously?” He muttered, reaching for his phone, his tone already edged with irritation. “Hello?”

But the moment he heard the voice on the other end, his expression shifted. His brows knitted, the color drained from his face, and his jaw tightened.

“Lilac?” he whispered, disbelief clear in his voice.

Lily’s heart plummeted, and she instinctively stepped back, her gaze fixed on him.

The warmth they had just shared seemed to evaporate, replaced by a cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach. The name alone was enough to bring a storm crashing between them.