Semua Bab After Forgetting Me, My CEO Ex-husband Regrets: Bab 501 - Bab 510

(Ruby)The decision to go on this date felt both impulsive and monumental. Lydia's words replayed in my mind like a mantra: If you don’t take chances, how will you ever move on? It wasn’t just about moving on from Jack, though. It was about reclaiming my confidence and allowing myself to live, to feel like a woman again, not just someone hiding behind her boutique and family dramas.So here I was, Thursday evening, standing in front of my mirror in a soft crimson wrap dress that hugged my figure without being overbearing. My makeup was subtle, my hair swept into loose waves that framed my face. It had been ages since I put this much effort into a date. Jean Dupont, if that was his real name, intrigued me in ways I couldn’t quite articulate. He was bold, confident, and disarmingly charming. Yet, there was an edge to him, something that made my pulse quicken in both excitement and apprehension.By the time I arrived at Balthazar’s, I was a bundle of nerves, my clutch nearly slipping fr

(Ruby)Mama’s room always had this serene warmth to it, a blend of soft pastel tones and the lingering scent of lavender that seemed to calm my racing thoughts every time I visited. Lydia sat on the chair near the bed, gently massaging Mama’s hand as they spoke about her upcoming appointment with Dr. Roberts. It was heartwarming to see her so devoted, her voice steady and reassuring, even when discussing difficult topics like therapy and recovery.I perched myself on the window seat, fiddling with a loose thread on my sleeve, before launching into the story of my dinner with Jean Dupont. “So, there I was,” I began, leaning forward for effect, “in the middle of this ridiculously fancy restaurant, feeling completely out of place. And there he was, charming as ever, talking like he stepped out of a novel.”Lydia smiled, her eyes lighting up with interest, “And? How was it? Did you like him?”I hesitated, letting out a small laugh, “He’s…interesting. Definitely knows how to make a girl f

(Margaret)The mansion felt cavernous without the usual bustle. Once, I relished the quiet, savoring the solitude as a mark of my hard-earned life, a life of prestige and independence. But today, it felt oppressive. Thomas and Jack were at the office, the children at preschool, Lydia off with her mother, at an appointment with Dr. Roberts. Even the staff had taken this moment of calm to busy themselves elsewhere. I was alone, the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the hall my only company.I stared out of the tall windows overlooking the grounds, immaculate as ever. Even now, everything in my domain appeared perfect. Yet, the emptiness within me couldn’t be masked by the beauty outside.With a sigh, I reached for my phone and dialed my driver. If no one in this house needed me, then I would take matters into my own hands. I’d been meaning to visit Amanda’s mother for weeks. Our friendship had become strained over the course of the past few weeks, but it wasn’t beyond repair

(Thomas)The drive home felt longer than usual. My mind was clouded with worry after Lydia’s call. I had spoken to the police on the way and learned the basics: my mother, Margaret Lombardi, had been targeted in a brazen robbery. Stranded, left vulnerable on a remote road, words that felt absurd when associated with her. My mother was many things, proud, composed, indomitable, but vulnerable? That word didn’t fit her. Yet here we were.The mansion’s gates loomed in the distance, and I took a steadying breath as I pulled into the driveway. It was dark now, the lights from the house spilling out onto the path. Parking quickly, I strode into the foyer, brushing off Mrs. Garvey’s greeting.“Where is she?” I asked.“In the drawing room, Mr. Lombardi,” she replied, her voice laced with concern.I found her there, seated in her usual armchair, perfectly poised as if nothing unusual had happened. Her posture was upright, her chin tilted just so, and her expression was one of calm composure. B

(Lydia)I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just say the words.The weight of secrets pressed on me like a heavy cloak, suffocating in its intensity. For days, I’d tried to convince myself that keeping Thomas in the dark was the right thing to do. Telling him about Clara and Lucien would open a door I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk through. But with every passing moment, the fear of what Lucien might do next clawed at my sanity. This wasn’t just about me anymore. Thomas, Mabel, Miles, Jack, Margaret and even Ruby, could be at risk.It was early morning, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains of our bedroom. Thomas was already downstairs, sipping his coffee and going over something urgent on his laptop. I could hear the faint hum of his voice on a call. I lingered in bed, trying to summon the strength to face another day of pretending everything was fine.My thoughts wandered back to the last time Clara and I had spoken. Her voice had been calm, too calm, as she told me Lucien w