LOGINShare
NINETY-FOUR
Last Updated:
2026-01-13 10:41:42
Latest chapter
THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS NINETY-FOUR
ELENA The moment I close the front door behind me, the silence hits too loud. Not peaceful, not calm, but heavy. I don’t even bother kicking off my heels properly. One lands somewhere near the wall. The other I step out of halfway, already moving. My fingers are shaking. They are not weak, just charged, like electricity with nowhere to go. The violin. I grab it like it’s the only thing in the house that won’t betray me. The garage smells faintly of oil and dust and old memories. I don’t turn on the lights fully; just enough to see. I drag the chair out, sit, and pull the violin to my shoulder, and before I can think, before I can hesitate, before my heart can start breaking again, I play hard and violently. The bow bites into the strings, sharp and unforgiving. The sound explodes through the garage, raw and dangerous, nothing gentle about it. Every stroke is anger. Every note is frustration I swallowed in boardrooms, courtrooms, kitchens, and bedrooms. I’m angry at Damian, angry
THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS NINETY-THREE
ELENA I don’t rush out of the office. That would look weak, so I walk measured and controlled. My chin is lifted, heels are clicking against the marble floors like punctuation marks at the end of a sentence no one dared interrupt. I nod at assistants. I return a tight smile to Victor as I pass the glass offices. I even pause long enough to straighten my blazer, as if the meeting hadn’t just tried to gut me alive. Performance complete. Inside, though? I am unravelling thread by invisible thread. Everyone is suddenly an expert on my Europe decision. Everyone has opinions, projections, and very selective memories. They talk about losses as if I didn’t already calculate them at three in the morning while my daughter slept and my heart refused to. The worst part? They’re not entirely wrong... I know it, but I just won’t say it, because the moment I admit doubt, they’ll smell blood, and I will not bleed in front of them. Not for Damian. Not for Europe. Not for anyone. I keep my posture
THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS NINETY-TWO
ELENA By the time Marina’s car pulls up outside the paediatrician’s office, my patience is already hanging by a thread. I asked her to follow me because I have to rush to work after the appointment, so that she can take Angela home. Angela is humming softly in the back seat, swinging her legs like yesterday never happened, like she didn’t scare ten years off my life with one allergic reaction and a hospital bracelet. Children are miraculous that way. They heal fast. Mothers don’t. Marina kills the engine and turns to me. “You okay?” I give her a smile that deserves an Oscar. “Fantastic. Love mornings that start with near-death experiences.” She snorts. “That’s my girl.” The appointment itself is… fine. Too fine. The doctor is calm, reassuring, professional, and everything I wish my heart would be right now. Notes are taken. New precautions discussed. Emergency action plans reviewed. More follow-ups are scheduled. More things added to the already endless mental list I carry
THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS NINETY-ONE
DAMIAN Morning comes too quietly. No alarms, no shouting, and no slamming doors. Just a pale line of sunlight slipping through the guest room curtains like it’s afraid to wake me.I’m already awake. I don’t remember falling asleep, only lying there staring at the ceiling, replaying Elena’s voice in my head,sharp, wounded, furious, and Angela’s small body curled against me last night, trusting me without question.That’s the part that hurts the most.I swing my legs off the bed and stand slowly. Every muscle stiff, suit jacket still draped over the chair from last night like a reminder that this isn’t my house and I am not really welcome. Not really.I open the door quietly. The house smells like coffee, and that stops me. For a split second, my chest tightens with something dangerously close to hope. Elena always brewed it strong in the mornings; no sugar, just enough bitterness to match her mood before the world got to her.I follow the scent down the hall. Angela’s laughter reaches
THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS NINETY
DAMIANThe phone keeps ringing between us, Isabelle’s name lighting up the screen like a bad omen. I don’t touch it, and I don’t even blink. My hands are clenched so tight at my sides that my knuckles ache, my jaw locked hard enough to hurt. If I answer that call right now, I’ll say something that can’t be undone, or worse, I’ll go find her and do something that will land me behind bars. And I refuse to give her that kind of power over me again.So I let it ring, and ring, and die.The silence that follows is heavy and charged. Elena lets out a short laugh, sharp and disbelieving, the kind that cuts deeper than a scream.“Wow,” she says quietly. “You didn’t answer.”I don’t look at her.“I guess you didn’t want to explain yourself to Isabelle in front of me,” she adds.There it is. The assumption and the judgment. The belief that everything I do still somehow revolves around her presence.I finally meet her eyes. “Think whatever you want,” I say evenly. “I’m not explaining my actions
THE DIVORCED WIFE RETURNS TO TAKE BACK WHAT’S HERS EIGHTY-NINE
ELENA I don’t walk out of the restaurant. I flee. My heels click too fast against the pavement, my breath uneven, my chest tight like someone’s wrapped wire around my ribs and keeps pulling. The cool night air slaps my overheated skin, but it doesn’t calm me. Nothing does. Not after that voice. Not after the way Damian said it; like I still belonged somewhere he could summon me from. “Elena... wait!” Adrian’s voice follows me into the parking lot. I fumble for my keys, hands shaking, vision slightly blurred. I almost drop them when fingers wrap around my wrist. I freeze. His touch isn’t rough, it’s not threatening either. But I’m already too raw, too wound up, too full of other men’s voices in my head. “Elena,” Adrian says again, softer this time. “What’s wrong?” I turn to him, disoriented, my heart still pounding like I’ve been running from something feral. His face swims into focus... concerned, earnest, too close. “I... I don’t know,” I admit, and hate how small my v
You may also like
HIRED AS A BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE
Rossy685.4K viewsBURNING PASSION: MY FORBIDDEN LOVER
Excel Arthur502.2K viewsMr. Ford Is Jealous
Boat of Peaches765.7K viewsHer Accidental Billionaire Husband
Lexusstar writes683.1K viewsI Want Her Bare, Always
Faymezia76 viewsFake dating my ex’s boss
Jasmine 82 viewsEnemy Mine (Unseen Enemy 3)
Marysol James33 viewsWhen We Fall
S.Riah24 views
