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74: The Cost of Letting Go
Last Updated:
2026-01-02 23:42:44
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His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 81: Written on His Heart
|| Abbie ||Cale was still in the shower. I was grateful he’d let me go first, but even though I’d used scalding hot water to bathe, the Icelandic chill still felt like it was seeping into my bones. I didn’t think I could survive in this city; I was only holding on to the hope that we wouldn’t stay the full week.He walked out of the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but stare, my eyes tracing the water droplets as they slid through his damp, silky hair, plastered against his forehead and down the hard planes of his tattooed arms. He looked like a vision of heat in this frozen room, sending a phantom warmth through me that made my skin prickle. But when my gaze reached his chest, my heart felt like it had been violently ripped from my ribs.Right there, directly over his heart, was my name.Abbie.I knew he had my name on his inner thigh—a secret, intimate mark—but this was new. Bold. Permanent. Had he done this right after our breakup?“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, reaching for
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 80: Breath and Fire
|| Abbie ||We finally touched down in Reykjavík, Iceland, the wheels hitting the tarmac with a reassuring thud after the ordeal in the sky. Once the jet was stable, the cabin felt unnervingly still, the only sound being our ragged breathing. Later, the pilot called it clear-air turbulence—an invisible wall of wind we never saw coming—but Cale wasn’t taking any chances. He immediately ordered a full diagnostic and a proper safety check when we landed, noting that since the jet hadn’t been used in months, he wanted to ensure every bolt was tightened before we dared to fly back home.Right at the airport, the biting northern wind hit us. Cale took one look at my shivering frame and stopped at a high-end boutique in the terminal, buying us heavy, charcoal-wool trench coats lined with shearling. It wasn’t an understatement; the city was bone-chillingly cold, the air smelling of salt and distant glaciers.As we arrived at the luxury hotel nestled in the heart of the city, the real proble
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 79: Falling Without Touching
|| Abbie ||I didn’t return to the company until a week later. I needed that time to build a wall thick enough to face Cale without crumbling. During that week, Jack was a constant, stabilizing presence. He had been fantastic—a true gentleman who never crossed the line, except for one evening when the air between us grew heavy. He leaned in so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, a fleeting moment where the world narrowed to the scent of his cologne and the invitation in his eyes. But he pulled back, and nothing more happened.I walked into Cale’s office on Monday morning, finding him already at his desk.“I guess you finally decided to grace us with your presence,” he said, not looking up, though his voice lacked its usual bite.“I realized you were never going to fire me, so I had no choice but to return,” I countered, sitting across from him.He finally looked up. “I’m never going to fire you, Abbie. You’re stuck with me. I need you here… and don’t forget, I
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 78: I Was Just… Done
|| Abbie ||Jack walked over to me as I lay on the couch, lifeless and hollowed out. I had been there in the dark ever since I stormed out of the company, staring at the ceiling as the hours bled together. I felt like a ghost haunting my own apartment; my heart had become a heavy, cold weight that made even breathing feel like a chore.“Your door was open,” he said softly.“I left it open for you… when you called and said you were coming,” I replied. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded thin and fragile. It was the first time I had moved or spoken in hours; I hadn’t even had the strength to get up for a glass of water or use the bathroom.I was just… done.“Do you need anything? Abbie, are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowed with genuine concern.“I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing myself to sit up. The room tilted for a second. “It’s just that my relationship with Cale keeps getting worse. It’s like a poison that won’t leave my system. And Flora… I don’t know if she’ll ever stop u
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 77: The Bridge That Burned
|| Abbie ||He stood up, re-rolling his sleeves even though they were already perfect—a nervous, restless energy twitching beneath his skin that he was trying to mask with action. “You and I… I think it’s best if you stay with Jack, just as you planned,” he said, not looking at me.“I don’t understand,” I whispered. My heart thudded a frantic, jagged rhythm against my ribs, a cold dread pooling in my stomach as I waited for the axe to fall.“After the way you spoke at Slade’s mansion, and that phone call last night… It's clear. I think you and Jack should really be together. It’s obviously what you want, Abbie.”“I’m not with Jack! I mean… I don’t even want to be with him. Cale, you and I—”“You and I are over, Abbie,” he cut me off, his voice cracking for a split second before turning to stone. “We can never be together. I know I’ve shattered us. I know I’ve hurt you in ways I can never fix, and I don't deserve a second of your forgiveness. But right now, Flora and I…”“Are you t
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 76: What Lingers in the Morning
|| Abbie ||I woke up the next morning with my head thudding in a rhythmic, agonizing pulse. It had been a long time since I’d been this drunk; the last time it happened, the reason was Cale, and it seemed history was determined to repeat itself.I looked down and realized I was in my nightdress—one of the thin silk pieces Cale used to adore, though he’d torn more than a few of them in the heat of his possessive hunger. Panic flared in my chest for a second until a soft knock sounded at the door.Jack walked in, shirtless and wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans. I quickly pulled the duvet up to cover my chest as he approached with a steaming mug in his hands.“Drink this tea. It’ll help with the nausea and the headache,” he said, his voice gentle.“Did you…” I trailed off, cautiously taking the cup from him. My eyes flickered down to my silk straps.“Change your clothes?” He anticipated my question and shook his head. “No. I laid you on the bed in your clothes from yesterday—they s
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