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Chapter 6
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Don’t Mess with My Ex-Wife Chapter 40
One Friday evening, I stood at the Singapore office window.Sunset turned the bay pale gold.On my desk lay next quarter’s plan, Ethan’s postcard, and a note from Vivian.She was visiting for partner meetings.The note didn’t tell me when to leave.Dinner together tonight?A message arrived from a colleague returning to work.She had completed her first client presentation.She hadn’t slept the night before.Afterward, I thought maybe I can really do this.I replied, You prepared. You delivered the presentation. That isn’t maybe.Then I stood still.Five years earlier, I had sat at an unfamiliar desk, waiting for someone to tell me whether I remained useful.I had just left a guarded estate.My bag held identification, medicine, and a credit card belonging to me.I didn’t know whether I could work again.How long my son would resent me.Whether a life without constant attention to somebody else’s mood was possible.Now I could offer another woman something accurate.Not a demand to bel
Don’t Mess with My Ex-Wife Chapter 39
The previous Thanksgiving, we had all been in San Francisco.It was Ethan’s first proper dinner with Vivian.Before coming, he asked what to bring.“Something you can make.”He arrived with potatoes roasted slightly too dry.After his first bite, he grimaced.“Too long?”Vivian didn’t call them perfect.She didn’t push them away.She asked which seasonings he used.They talked for a long time.Nobody rushed to perform a new family.Nobody demanded immediate acceptance.Afterward, Ethan collected the plates.I stayed seated while they discussed the dishwasher.Outside, darkness settled.Inside, it was warm.I remembered older Thanksgivings.Polished silver.Seating cards checked repeatedly.Complaints about placement, cold food, disappointing gifts.With so many employees working, I still became the person expected to apologize.I thought one better-organized holiday would finally escape criticism.Now the potatoes were dry.We had a good dinner anyway.Ethan came back, drying his hands
Don’t Mess with My Ex-Wife Chapter 38
Ethan graduated from high school and went to the University of Pennsylvania to study business.He didn’t immediately enter the Bellandi companies.Before choosing, he had a difficult conversation with his father.Adrian still defaulted to arrangements.Ethan told him, “I know you can organize everything. I want to discover what I can do first.”When he described it to me, I didn’t call Adrian.I didn’t clear the road ahead.“Have you thought it through?”“Not all of it. I want to keep thinking.”“Then do that.”He wrote his application essay himself.Only after finishing did he ask me to read it.He described someone he had once underestimated.No family name.No claim that he had matured overnight.He wrote that understanding sometimes began with admitting you had chosen not to understand.I suggested a few changes to phrasing.I did not rewrite it.At the bottom, I added, This essay belongs to you.His answer came quickly.I know. You wouldn’t do it all for me.I smiled at that for a
Don’t Mess with My Ex-Wife Chapter 37
Two more years passed.I turned forty.Vivian’s firm opened in Singapore, and I took responsibility for our Asia-Pacific business.During my first cross-time-zone meeting, I misread the schedule.The team waited five minutes.I apologized, corrected the reminder, and began.Later, the memory made me laugh.Forty had not transformed me into someone incapable of error.It had stopped one mistake from becoming proof I didn’t deserve my chair.Projects still ran late.Clients changed their minds.Partners disagreed.Sometimes we refused profitable work.Not everyone willing to pay belonged on our client list.I helped strengthen client reviews and conflict procedures.Decisions followed clear standards, made together.My past neither relaxed those standards nor required me to avoid an entire industry forever.I could say a project suited us.Or it didn’t.Without first studying somebody’s face.Vivian and I argued, too.Once, we debated a project’s risk boundaries for two hours and convinc
Don’t Mess with My Ex-Wife Chapter 36
“I don’t want to inherit his position just because I’m his son.”Outside, a luggage cart passed.An ordinary afternoon.Yet he sounded as though he had finally set down something heavy.“I like fencing. I want college. Sometimes they talk like I’m just waiting to be old enough.”“You can take time to decide. You don’t owe anyone the answer today.”“Dad will be disappointed.”“He can have feelings. Your life doesn’t exist to prevent his disappointment.”A long silence.“Did you need someone to tell you that?”Tears returned.“Yes.”He didn’t tell me to stop crying.He didn’t promise to protect me and place himself inside another adult role.He stayed.Eventually, he asked whether he could call.“Not for something I lost. Just to talk.”“Yes.”“What if you’re busy?”“I’ll tell you when I’m available.”“If you don’t answer, I can leave a message and wait?”“Yes.”Such simple sentences.We sounded like people learning how to become mother and son again.I told him every call didn’t need to
Don’t Mess with My Ex-Wife Chapter 35
People moved through the terminal.Suitcases rolled.A child called for his father.Ethan and I remained quiet until he said, “Vanessa and Dad tried again.”My chest tightened.Not jealousy.Sadness for the child who had watched the adults call this something else.“After he told you it was over, they got back in contact. At first, they said it was business.”I listened.“I hoped you’d come back when you saw.”He swallowed.“I thought you were angry. If you got angrier, you’d come home and make her leave.”At thirteen, he had not known what the end of a marriage meant.He thought every argument eventually ended with his mother staying.“She lived at the estate for a while.”His voice dropped.“She hated equipment downstairs. Didn’t like weekend plans changing for competitions. When relatives asked her for things, she said they were treating her like you.”I remembered the tearoom.Her warning not to regret leaving.Wanting the chair had not meant wanting the obligations piled beside it
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