บททั้งหมดของ After Forgetting Me, My CEO Ex-husband Regrets: บทที่ 411 - บทที่ 420

(Ruby)The lights of my boutique cast a warm, golden glow across the racks and displays, bathing everything in a calm, almost ethereal light. Outside, the evening buzzed with people heading off to dinners or cocktails or whatever glamorous plans awaited them. It was one of those quiet nights where most of my customers had come in early, making their selections for whatever events they had lined up, and now, the streets were mostly empty except for the occasional passerby. I leaned against the counter, watching the flickering street lights outside and mentally going over the shop’s stock. There was something soothing about the quiet at the end of a long day, a kind of stillness that allowed me to unwind. But then, in the middle of my thoughts, a shadow darted past the front of the boutique. My breath caught. My heart skipped and then began to pound.For a second, I tried to convince myself that I’d imagined it. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, someone walking past on the way

(Thomas)I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling of my office. Today was one of those days that stretched on and on, each hour feeling longer than the last. I rubbed my temples, feeling the tension settle into my bones. The team was stuck on an issue with one of our latest projects, a problem that had surfaced last minute and now needed my attention. I should have felt some satisfaction diving into work; I usually did. But right now, this office felt like a pressure chamber, and all I wanted was to be anywhere else.Lately, being here didn’t feel like the victory it once had. I’d spent years building this company, giving it my blood, sweat, and every waking thought, and now, instead of pride, I felt like I was tiptoeing around my own space, walking on eggshells in a company I’d created. The board was breathing down my neck because of the fiasco with Nathan, and Jack was doing his best to keep things steady, but the whole thing left a sour taste. It was one thing to face ch

(Lydia)Sunday morning arrived, bathed in soft, golden light that filtered through the curtains. It was the kind of serene morning that usually made me feel at peace, but today I couldn’t shake the tension twisting in my chest. Today was the day Mama would be admitted to the hospital, and tomorrow, she would face surgery. After weeks of waiting and hoping the chemotherapy would work, this was our last resort.With a deep breath, I walked down the hallway to Mabel and Miles’s room, bracing myself. They would have questions, and I’d have to answer them with all the calm I could muster. Their innocence was both a comfort and a reminder of how strong I needed to be, for them, for Mama, and for myself.I had put the thoughts of writing my statement to the back of my mind, wanting to focus on Mama instead of worrying over it. I still have time and I was sure I would figure something out.“Good morning, loves,” I whispered as I nudged open their door. The kids were already stirring, Mabel s

(Thomas)I watched Lydia as she finished getting ready, the quiet strength in her movements masking the turmoil I knew was swirling inside her. She was putting on a brave face, but I could see the worry and the exhaustion written in every line of her expression. I hated seeing her like this, and I knew there was nothing I could do to take away her fears. She was about to take her mother to the hospital for surgery, a major surgery that would determine how much time they had left. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, and it made my chest tighten. I hated seeing her carry this burden alone, but I also knew she was determined to face it head-on.As I approached her, I could see how much this was affecting her. She was trying to focus on getting everything organized, the kids, the house, everything. But there was a storm behind her eyes, a storm she wasn’t letting me into, and that made me ache for her. I stepped forward, my hand gently touching her shoulder. “Lyd

(Lydia)The hospital smelled like antiseptic and too-clean air, the kind that made everything feel sterile and distant. The bright fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting an almost clinical glow on the room as I walked alongside my Mama. I held her hand tightly, feeling the faint tremor in her fingers as we made our way down the long, sterile corridor. She wasn’t talking much, but I could tell she was bracing herself, trying to keep it together. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the same. I was terrified. I’d been terrified ever since we’d gotten the diagnosis. But today, as we arrived here, it felt different. The weight of it all was pressing down on me. The reality of what we were facing settled over me like a heavy blanket, suffocating and unrelenting. My Mama was about to undergo surgery, a surgery that would either save her or change everything. And as much as I wanted to believe that she was strong enough to make it through, I couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing was