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Chapter Twenty Three
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2026-07-10 09:30:26Elara's POV
He knocked at seven forty-five in the morning.I know the time because I had been awake since six, sitting at my desk in the specific restless state that came from a night of almost-sleep — the kind where you drifted under and kept surfacing, never quite reaching the depth where real rest lived. I had been staring at the Renaud document for forty minutes, adding nothing, just reading what was already there and feeling the shape of it press against something I couldn't yet
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His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Twenty Seven
Elara's POVThe sunflowers were in a glass on my kitchen counter.Yellow, cheerful, entirely ordinary — the kind of flowers that made a room feel like something good was happening in it. I had put them there without thinking and then stood back and looked at them and thought about the flower stall at the far end of Rue Mouffetard, past the cheese vendor and the bread woman, at the end you only reached if you went there specifically.I had not mentioned I liked sunflowers.I had not mentioned flowers at all.I turned from the counter and opened my laptop.Adrian had arrived that afternoon with the easy manner of someone doing a small, thoughtful thing — sunflowers in one hand, his laptop bag over his shoulder, already talking about a tutoring platform he had found that he thought could help me build a proper client profile."You should be charging more," he said, settling at my kitchen table and opening his laptop. "The market rate for private English tutoring in Paris is significantly
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Twenty Six
Cassian's POVI saw them from across the street.Adrian had arrived first — he always arrived first, which I had noticed and filed away as the habit of a man who liked to have the room before anyone else walked into it. He was standing outside Elara's building with sunflowers in one hand and his phone in the other, relaxed in the particular way of someone who had nowhere else to be and wanted that to be visible.I had been coming from the market.I stopped on the opposite pavement.He didn't see me. He was looking at his phone, then at the building entrance, then at his phone again — the unconscious rhythm of someone waiting and trying not to look like they were waiting. The sunflowers were casual. The kind of flowers you picked up at a market stall because you happened to pass one, because it was a nice thing to do, because you were the kind of man who thought of these things naturally.Except I had just come from that market.I knew every stall on Rue Mouffetard. I had spent three w
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Twenty Five
Elara's POVThe Fontaine apartment was on the fourth floor of a building in the seventh arrondissement that had the quiet confidence of old money — the kind that didn't need to announce itself because it had been there long enough to stop caring whether anyone noticed.I noticed anyway.Not with envy. Something more complicated than that. Six months ago I had lived inside rooms like this — the particular hush of high ceilings, the art chosen for meaning rather than investment, the light that came through tall windows and fell across parquet floors in a way that made everything look like the opening shot of a film. Six months ago that world had been my address.Now it was a Tuesday morning appointment.I rang the bell.The woman who opened the door was somewhere in her sixties — elegant in the French way that looked effortless and was almost certainly not, with the direct gaze of someone who had spent decades in rooms full of people trying to impress her and had long since lost interes
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter Twenty four
Elara's POV He chose the venue this time. A wine bar on the Left Bank that was narrow and candlelit and designed, it seemed, for conversations that were supposed to feel intimate. Dark wood, low ceilings, the kind of place where the lighting did half the emotional work before anyone said a word. I had arrived first, which I had done deliberately — I wanted to be in the room before he was, wanted to have my bearings before he walked in with that calibrated warmth and made the space feel like it belonged to him. He arrived seven minutes late. Not enough to be rude. Just enough that I'd had time to wonder if he was coming, which I suspected was not accidental. "Sorry," he said, unwinding his scarf, settling into the chair across from me with the ease of someone who was never genuinely sorry for being late because being late had always worked out for them. "I got caught up." "In what?" "A call." He smiled. "Nothing interesting." The waiter appeared. Adrian ordered wine without con
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter Twenty Three
Elara's POVHe knocked at seven forty-five in the morning.I know the time because I had been awake since six, sitting at my desk in the specific restless state that came from a night of almost-sleep — the kind where you drifted under and kept surfacing, never quite reaching the depth where real rest lived. I had been staring at the Renaud document for forty minutes, adding nothing, just reading what was already there and feeling the shape of it press against something I couldn't yet name.Then the knock.I opened the door in my cardigan and socks and the expression of a woman who had not prepared for company.He was holding a paper bag. Two coffees balanced in a carrier. He had not shaved. He looked, if anything, worse-rested than me, which was a feat I would have considered impossible twenty minutes ago."I was in the neighbourhood," he said."It's seven forty-five in the morning.""The boulangerie opens at six." He held up the bag. "The croissants
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter Twenty Two
Cassian's POVShe called four times before noon.I let the first three go. Not because I was avoiding her — I was done avoiding things, done with the particular cowardice of letting problems ring out and telling myself that was strategy. I let them go because I was in the middle of something and I wanted to finish it first.The something was a letter.Not a legal document. Not a settlement offer. Not anything Davis had drafted or reviewed or formatted with the correct headers. Just a letter, handwritten, on the hotel's plain stationery, addressed to Elara and already on its fourth version because the first three had been wrong in ways I couldn't fully articulate but could feel immediately upon rereading.The fourth version wasn't right either.I put the pen down when the fourth call came in and picked up the phone."Juliette.""You've been ignoring me." Not accusatory — careful. The voice she used when she had decided in advance to be reasonable.
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter Three
Elara’s POVI didn’t cry. I couldn’t afford to, especially not where anyone could see. Instead, I walked. I didn’t know where I was going, though my feet moved with purpose. The truth of my reality did not hit me until I reached the curb. It was over.Not just the marriage, every single thing ha
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter Two
Cassian’s POVThe very second she opened the door to get out, I thought that was it. But then the door creaked open a little wider, and she collided with someone.“Sorry again, Mrs. Hale” my lawyer, Davis, apologized and just had to change the topic. “Elara. Do you have a moment?” I almost rolled
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter One
Elara’s POVI'm here to make peace or to simply see to the end of this. I really didn’t care anymore, I just wanted to see him. Just one last time. And that's when the door opened quietly.Cassian Hale walked in dressed in a dark suit, an ideal tie, and his cold eyes that never for once flinche
His Loss: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back Chapter Five
Cassian’s POVThe boardroom screamed wealth, as they talked about various things that covered, the numbers on mergers, expansion and projected acquisitions, but I had heard only a few or three words of what they were saying. My mind was elsewhere.“Mr. Hale?” the CFO’s voice called to me, snapping
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