Alle Kapitel von Goodbye, Ex-Husband, Next Please: Kapitel 221 – Kapitel 230

AVA’S POV The assistant director motioned for us to sit. Jason and I took the chairs opposite her desk. I kept glancing at Mason – still curled up in the corner chair, his small arms crossed over his chest, lips pushed into a pout. He didn’t look defiant. He looked hurt like a balloon that had slowly deflated. The woman gave us a tired smile. “Thank you both for coming so quickly.” “What exactly happened?” Jason asked, his voice calm but firm. “We only got a rough idea on the phone.” She nodded, folding her hands on the desk. “Mason was outside with the other children during recess. Another boy – Jude – said something about Mason’s mother. According to the teacher, the words were upsetting. Mason pushed him. Jude lost his balance and fell. He hit his head on the pavement.” My chest tightened sharply. “Is he okay? Jude?” She nodded. “Yes, thankfully. He was seen by the nurse and sent home with a mild bump. Nothing serious. But protocol requires we inform both families and do

JASON’S POVThe moment Mason said those words— “Will you stay? Sleep here… with Miss Ava”—my heart nearly exploded. I tried to keep a straight face. I really did. But inside, I was screaming. Screaming with joy, relief, hope, everything. He said it so innocently like he didn’t even know what kind of fire he just lit in the room. But maybe he did. Maybe that little boy could see right through me. And knew I badly wanted a chance to spend some alone time with Ava. I glanced at Ava. She looked like a deer caught in headlights – frozen, blinking, unsure. Mason looked between us, confused but hopeful. “Please?” he repeated. Ava rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers tangled in her hair. “Um… that’s not a problem,” she said, her voice a little shaky. Not a problem. That means she said yes. I kept my face calm. I nodded slowly like I was just being supportive. But inside? Inside, I was doing backflips. Finally. A moment. A chance to be close. Not in passing, not in tens

JASON’S POV The table was full of sound – plates clinking, Emma humming, Mason asking for more stew – but it felt like I was somewhere else entirely. Ava hadn’t looked at me once since she mentioned Officer Mike. And me? I hadn’t taken a proper bite. “Want more chicken?” Rose asked, halfway rising with the serving spoon. “I’m good, thanks,” I said, though my plate was barely touched. Mason leaned into Ava, whispering something that made her smile for a split second. But even her smile looked tired – like it had to fight its way out. And just as quickly, it faded. I watched her carefully, the way she kept her eyes on her plate, the way her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the napkin. Something was bothering her. And it wasn’t just me. “Aunt Ava,” Emma said, pointing to her chin, “there’s sauce on your face.” Ava chuckled softly and wiped it. “Thanks, sweetheart.” That voice. The softness in it. She was trying – trying so hard to keep things normal. But underneath, it was a

AVA’S POV The silence between me and Jason was thick. Too thick. He stood beside me, still staring in the direction Julian had just walked off, like if he squinted hard enough, he’d unlock some hidden truth. I didn’t even have to look at him to feel the questions bubbling beneath his calm exterior. The longer he stood there, the heavier it got. I could practically hear his thoughts — loud, restless, nosy. I didn’t want any of it. Not his concern. Not his questions. And definitely not his help. I didn’t want him involved in my mess anymore. Not ever. Especially not when it came to Julian. Julian may not have been “family” in any way that mattered — not in the way that counted — but we were tied by blood, and there was no way to undo that, no matter how badly I wished I could. And I already knew how Jason would use that. He’d say, “But he’s your uncle,” or worse, try to “fix” the situation like he always did when we were still together. But I didn’t want that. I didn’t need re

JASON’S POV I stood there in the hallway for a long second after Ava shut the door. No goodnight. No warmth. Just that firm click that said, clear as day, you’re not welcome here. Fair enough. I guess I deserved that. I rubbed the back of my neck and turned around, walking slowly down the stairs, trying not to overthink the tight feeling in my chest. I wasn’t even sure why I thought she’d let me stay in her room. Maybe I was just holding on to some old version of us that doesn’t exist anymore. Wishful thinking, I guess. The house was quiet now. The kind of quiet that makes every little creak in the wood sound louder. I looked around the living room. No sign of Rose. Lights were dimmed, and toys were scattered here and there like little reminders of the kids. I figured she must’ve gone to her room. I didn’t want to disturb her just to ask where the guest room was. I looked at the couch and sighed. It was wide enough. Plush, deep cushions. Not exactly a five-star bed, but it