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Author: Um_royhan
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-08-26 17:42:35

9

Stella.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

We had picked a city where no one knew our names and an apartment that smelled like new paint and borrowed courage. Josh installed the second lock himself because the locksmith was “too friendly with the hinges.” He said it as a joke; he didn’t smile.

“New SIMs,” he said, sliding mine across the counter. “Use cash today. No food apps.”

“Copy,” I said, even though I wanted pancakes that arrived with emojis.

He made eggs and burned the bread on purpose so the fire alarm would scream. “Good,” he said, waving a dish towel. “Sensitive. If someone even breathes wrong, it tattles.”

I laughed. It sounded like someone else’s laugh, but it worked.

We had rules: curtains closed at night, shoes inside the door, phone in the bowl, don’t answer unknown numbers, trust your spine over your hope. Also: talk to the baby, even if it looks like you’re talking to a bowl of oats. The baby answered with small waves, polite but determined.

By noon, the place looked like people li
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  • Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back!    10

    10Stella.The triage nurse had a braid so neat it made me trust her. She listened to the baby, then to me. “Your vitals are steady. When the next contraction comes, think about blowing up a stubborn balloon.”“It is stubborn,” I said.“Then be more stubborn,” she said, like a blessing.We moved to a small delivery room with a window that framed one ladle of sky. Josh parked the bag by the door and tried to fold himself smaller. He failed. He is six feet of worry with a medical degree.“Pain scale?” he asked.“Three,” I said. “And your socks don’t match.”He looked down, horrified. “Sabotage.”The midwife arrived with hands that had delivered whole towns. She checked me, listening in that concentrated way people do when they’re solving a code. “How far along were you when your water broke?” she asked.“Just now-ish,” I said. “We timed for an hour. It kept flirting with five minutes.”She smiled. “It’s committing now.”Another contraction folded me. I breathed, jaw loose, shoulders dow

  • Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back!    9

    9Stella.EIGHT MONTHS LATERWe had picked a city where no one knew our names and an apartment that smelled like new paint and borrowed courage. Josh installed the second lock himself because the locksmith was “too friendly with the hinges.” He said it as a joke; he didn’t smile.“New SIMs,” he said, sliding mine across the counter. “Use cash today. No food apps.”“Copy,” I said, even though I wanted pancakes that arrived with emojis.He made eggs and burned the bread on purpose so the fire alarm would scream. “Good,” he said, waving a dish towel. “Sensitive. If someone even breathes wrong, it tattles.”I laughed. It sounded like someone else’s laugh, but it worked.We had rules: curtains closed at night, shoes inside the door, phone in the bowl, don’t answer unknown numbers, trust your spine over your hope. Also: talk to the baby, even if it looks like you’re talking to a bowl of oats. The baby answered with small waves, polite but determined.By noon, the place looked like people li

  • Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back!    8

    8Alex’s POVMy office sounded like a call center and a courtroom. Everyone was talking, no one was answering. I held the printed hospital note in one hand. Pregnant. Bed rest advised. I said it out loud so it would stop echoing in my head.“Who signed her discharge,” I asked. “Names. Times. I want a chain.”A senior nurse cleared her throat. “Josh handled her directly. She insisted on privacy.”“Who else knew?”Blank faces. A few no, sirs. A few I am not sure. Someone tried to mention policy. I cut them off. I was not interested in policy. I was interested in my wife carrying my child and walking out of a hospital without me knowing.I called Stella first. Straight to voicemail. I tried again. Same thing. I texted one word. Please. No dots. No reply.“Try her bank again,” I told my PA. “Try every contact we have on file.”He came back five minutes later with the same answer. Accounts closed. Email bounced. Number dead. He added that Josh’s records were clean and empty. No forwarding

  • Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back!    7

    7Alex’s POV.The office was dark except for the glow of my desk lamp. My PA stood there, files pressed so tightly to his chest I half expected him to bruise. His eyes darted from the folder to me and back again, like he was weighing whether to hand me a loaded gun or an overdue utility bill.“Sir, there’s been a development. You’ll want to see this immediately.”I didn’t bother sitting. “What is it?”He set the file down in front of me. “We were preparing to transfer the alimony, as instructed. Routine, or so I thought. But Stella’s account bounced the payment. I tried the backup numbers and accounts, but… sir, she’s wiped everything. There’s no working contact, no active account. It’s like she’s…gone.”He waited for a reaction. I gave him none. My heart was beating hard in my chest but I held his gaze, expression flat. “So find her brother. Josh Harrington. He worked for us. There must be a record.”“We checked. He resigned the same week Stella left. No forwarding address. No job app

  • Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back!    6

    6Alex. The first thing everyone tells you about divorce is that it comes with relief, as if someone finally cuts you loose from a bad anchor. They don’t tell you about the empty echo of footsteps on hardwood floors or the way silence starts to hum around you like an old fridge with a broken motor. It wasn’t freedom. It was hollow.For two weeks after Stella left, I didn’t set foot in the house. I holed up in a city hotel; penthouse, corner suite, view of everything but the parts of my life that mattered. I’d tell myself it was for convenience. For privacy. For work. Really, I couldn’t stand the idea of walking into that house and smelling her perfume, hearing her laughter replay in my head like an earworm, finding strands of her hair in places she hadn’t been in months. It was everywhere, her. In the scent of clean sheets, in the chipped mug she always left beside the sink, in the lingering trace of her favorite shampoo in the upstairs bathroom. Even the pillows were stubborn, refus

  • Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back!    5

    5Stella. Packing a life into boxes is supposed to be quick if you don’t have much left. Or so people say. But nobody tells you about the quiet, aching way time stretches, every minute thick with memories you don’t want but can’t escape. The sun was barely up when I began, washing the bedroom in watery gold, everything sharp and brittle with that cold, early light. My suitcase waited, open-mouthed and accusing, in the center of the room. I found myself staring at it the way you stare at a blank test you know you’re going to fail.I moved like I was underwater. Sweater, jeans, toothbrush, charger, all landing in neat little stacks that meant nothing and everything. I left most things behind; the fancy dresses I bought hoping to impress him at some Marwood party, the designer heels that always pinched, the jewelry Alex’s mother gave me that never felt like mine. I kept the essentials. A threadbare T-shirt that smelled like my mother. The book I’d read every time I was lonely, pages sof

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