The Ex-wife He Regrets Losing!

MABEL My legs kept vibrating underneath the doctor's table as I tried to calm my wailing baby on my lap. His screams were the only thing I heard whenever he was around me. Ever since I gave birth six months ago, he hasn't stopped crying, except when his father or grandmother holds him. No matter what I did, he doesn't seem to want me around. He doesn't even take my breast milk. "Why is he still like this?" I asked as I placed him in the cot I brought along. "You told me to bond with him as much as I could, and that all he needed was my touch." "Newborns are fragile and unaware of their surroundings. You need to make him aware of you," the doctor said, and I hissed. "I have tried doing that for the past six months, but it all failed. Please tell me exactly what I should do." He didn't say a word. He just looked at me with pity in his eyes. I looked at my son, who hadn't stopped crying since I put him down. It was torture to hear my son cry like that. Maybe it would be better i

MABEL Morning came quickly. I didn't even remember when I left Jason's nursery to sleep in my bedroom. A bedroom I share with my husband, Ethan, but it wasn't as warm as it used to be. It felt icy cold because he wouldn't touch me or face me while he slept. Most nights he wouldn't even sleep here. The only reason he was here was probably to keep up appearances because of the crowd of people we'd be having in the house. I quickly got up and prepared myself as best as I could. I finally opted to put on a beige-colored ball gown. There was no way I was going to wear a black dress to present my son to the world. I quickly ran down the stairs to get to my son. He would be awake now and would need to be breastfed. Even though he might not accept half of it. "Where are you going?" Claire asked as she saw me descend down the stairs. "To my son," I said, unsure why I even gave her an answer. "You can't go in there..." She tried to stop me, but it was too late. I opened the door of

MABEL The California sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my studio, casting golden light across racks of designer gowns that shimmer like liquid jewels. I stand before the three-way mirror, my expert hands adjusting the drape of a crimson Valentino gown on Dakota Mills's shoulders. "Turn slightly to the left," I instruct, my voice carrying the quiet authority I've earned over five hard years. Dakota obeys, and the fabric transforms, creating an optical illusion that will photograph beautifully on the Oscars red carpet. I step back, critically assessing my work with the same intensity I bring to every client. This is my domain now, my empire built from nothing but determination and an eye for transforming people into their most confident selves. Five years have reshaped me into someone virtually unrecognizable from the broken woman who fled New York with empty arms and a shattered heart. My dark hair, once pulled back in practical ponytails during my days as

MABEL The morning light filtered through the hotel curtains, painting everything in shades of gold and gray. I'd been awake since four AM, my laptop open on the bed, surrounded by printouts and notes. Research. That's what I told myself I was doing. But really, I was obsessing. My screen displayed Vanessa Latham's Wikipedia page for the third time that night. I'd already memorized every detail, but I kept reading, searching for something, anything, that might give me an edge. Vanessa Marie Latham born March 15, 1985 is an American real estate mogul and CEO of Latham Properties, one of New York's largest commercial real estate firms. She inherited the company from her father, Richard Latham, in 2018. I scrolled down to the personal life section, my heart hammering. Latham has never been married. In 2021, she adopted a son, Liam, through a private adoption agency. She is known for her fierce protection of her privacy and rarely discusses her personal life in interviews. 2021. The

MABEL I made it halfway across the lobby before I realized I'd left my pen in Vanessa's living room. It was a stupid, expensive pen, a Montblanc I'd bought myself after landing my first six-figure contract. I used it for every client signing. Lucky charm, Jenny called it. I couldn't leave it behind. The doorman looked up as I approached. "Forget something, Ms. James?" "My pen. I left it upstairs." He called up to Rose, who cheerfully told him to send me back up. "Ms. Latham's already left for her meeting, but I'm still here. Come on up!" The elevator ride felt different this time. Slower. My reflection in the polished doors looked pale, nervous. Get it together,* I told myself. *It's just a pen. But my hands were shaking as the doors opened. Rose was waiting in the foyer, holding my Montblanc. "Found it on the coffee table," she said with a smile. "Thank you. I would've been lost without it." "I totally get it. I have a lucky mug that I refuse to let anyone else use." Rose'