My CEO Ex-Husband's Regret: Chasing His Dying Wife Back

“Finally done…” I whispered to myself with a big grin and looked around at the result of my hard work.

The dinner table looked perfect. I mean, really perfect. Three candles flickering in the center, my husband’s favorite lasagna still warm in the oven, and a chocolate cake sitting on the counter with "Happy 3rd Anniversary" written in shaky icing letters. I'd spent two hours on that dessert alone, my hands trembling the entire time because I wanted everything to be just right.

This anniversary had to be just right. And it was going to be, I could feel it. I couldn’t wait to give Maya all the gist by tomorrow.

I smoothed down my red dress giddily—the one he bought me for our first anniversary, our only anniversary in three years because he forgot about it last year.

I remember how utterly sad and devastated I had been, the year had been rough on me and I’d looked forward to our anniversary for months.

Only he never showed up at our favorite restaurant.

I’d cried myself to sleep and when Alexander realised his mistake, he had apologized profusely. Told me it would never happen again and this time, we would do it at home, it would be just the two of us.

“And I’ll give you the most special, wonderful gift that will make up for our missed year.” He had grinned so handsomely at me.

Of course I’d forgiven him because I know my husband is such a workaholic and like my mama always says, men have the memory of a child, so it wasn’t entirely his fault that he forgot. I should have reminded him a week before.

So yes, I forgave him and I knew this year's anniversary would make up for all the troubles I’ve had to go through since I married the love of my life.

His family’s maltreatment that kept getting intense throughout the years, the fact that I almost never got to spend quality time with my husband because of his work and his best friend, Sophia, who had been his family savior years ago.

The only reason I kept going on was because of my son — who was currently having a sleepover with my bestie, Maya, so as to give me and my husband the privacy we needed— and my utterly handsome husband, they were the light in the darkness of my life.

Oh yeah, and celebrations like tonight.

I checked my reflection in the mirror one more time. My dark brown hair was curled perfectly, my makeup flawless despite the three attempts it took to get my eyeliner even. To pop out the grey in my eyes, the one my husband loved so much.

And then I sat with a big smile, and waited.

Seven o'clock came and went. Then eight. Then nine.

“Hmm, I guess he has a meeting that is delaying him? Perks of a billionaire CEO.” I thought to myself.

I kept checking my phone, hoping for a text, a call, anything. But the screen stayed dark except for the time mocking me as it ticked past our reservation time, past dinnertime, past any reasonable excuse.

“Why is he so late?”

By ten-thirty, I'd blown out the candles twice and relit them. The lasagna had gone cold, then I'd reheated it, then it went cold again. My feet were killing me in these heels, but I didn't want to take them off. What if he walked through the door right now and I looked like I'd given up?

Eleven o'clock came and I finally realized the truth.

He had forgotten our anniversary. Again.

The candles were just wax puddles now. I finally kicked off the heels and slumped into my chair, staring at the two place settings I'd arranged so carefully.

God, I felt stupid.

Midnight. That's when I heard his key in the lock.

I shot up from the table, smoothing my dress again, trying to look like I hadn't been sitting there for five hours like an idiot. The door opened and my husband walked in, still in his work clothes, tie loosened around his neck, looking tired and completely normal. Like this was just another Tuesday.

"Hey," he said, barely glancing at me as he set his briefcase down. "You're still up?"

Still up? Still up? I stared at him, waiting for the lightbulb moment, the sudden realization, the apology just like last year. But he just walked toward the kitchen, probably looking for his dinner.

"Alex." My voice came out smaller than I wanted.

"Mm?" He was already opening the fridge.

"Do you know what today is?"

He paused, his brow furrowed like he was trying to solve a math problem. "Tuesday?"

The laugh that came out of me sounded broken. "It's our special day. Our third wedding celebration. The one you promised you would not miss again, remember?”

He turned around then, and I saw it—that flash of panic in his eyes. The same look he got when he forgot to pick up Lucas for hours after school or my birthday last year or our anniversary, he forgot everything and he seemed to keep forgetting!

"Shit, Ivy, I—"

"I made dinner." I gestured weakly toward the table. "I've been waiting since seven."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But you know how crazy work has been. The Morrison deal is falling apart and if we don't close by Friday—"

"Stop." The word came out sharper than I intended. "Just stop."

He ran a hand through his hair, that gesture he always made when he was frustrated. "Stop being so dramatic, Ivy. Work is more important than some useless date."

Useless date.

Something inside me snapped. Maybe it was the five hours of waiting, or the way he was looking at me like I was being unreasonable, or the fact that he called the day we promised to love each other forever "useless." But suddenly I was walking to the counter, picking up that stupid dessert I'd spent two hours decorating, and strolling outside to dump it straight into the trash.

Alex followed me outside our extremely wealthy neighborhood. "Ivy, what the hell—"

"Don't." I held up a hand, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. "I don’t want to hear it.”

I walked past him to the front door and turned the deadbolt. Then the chain lock. Then I grabbed his keys from the hook and clutched them in my fist.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing the locks. Well, basically." I looked at him, this man I'd loved for five years, married for three, and felt nothing but exhaustion. "You want to come home at midnight like you live here alone? Then you can figure out how to get in like you live here alone."