Ex-wife becomes pregnant after divorce のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

AncelottiI sat in my favorite café, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. Sunlight poured through the large windows, casting warm patches on the wooden floor.I glanced at my phone again, half-hoping for a message from her. Nothing. A sigh escaped my lips as I tapped my fingers on the table, contemplating whether I should reach out. Just then, the door swung open, and Jeffrey stepped inside. My heart sank at the sight of him. I hadn’t expected to see him here. He was a presence that commanded attention, but not in a way that brought me comfort. I watched as his gaze swept the room before landing on me, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability.“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low but firm.I nodded, gesturing for him to join me at the table. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”He sat down, running a hand through his hair—a gesture that felt all too familiar. It was as if he was trying to gather his thoughts, but I could see

Caroline"Grandma, I'm so done with this." I slumped onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm so tired of feeling like a failure." My Grandma Betty, a woman who could make even the worst day feel a little brighter, patted my hand. "Caroline, honey, you know you're not a failure. You're working hard, and you're taking care of your kids.""But, Grandma," I said, my voice cracking, "I'm not even taking care of myself. I barely have time to breathe, let alone take a proper shower.""Well, that's what I'm here for, sweetheart," Grandma Betty said, a twinkle in her eyes. "I'm your backup, your cheerleader, your all-around grandma-extraordinaire. Now, tell me what's really bothering you."I hesitated for a moment. This was a big one, something I hadn't even told Grandma about. But I knew I needed to talk to someone, and who better than the woman who had always been my rock?"It's Ancelotti," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "It's all his fault." "That name rings a bell," Grandma Be

The slamming of the front door echoed through the house, the sound like a physical blow to Caroline’s chest. Maralyn, her face twisted with a mix of fury and shame, was gone. Caroline watched her leave, a cold satisfaction blooming in her chest. It was done. Maralyn was out of the picture. “Three meats in the game now,” Caroline whispered, her voice barely audible. Ancelotti was the first. She had been forced to be nice to him, all because of Grandma. Grandma, with her endless pronouncements about being "nice to the new boy", had become the bane of Caroline’s existence. But Ancelotti, with his shy smiles and his penchant for wearing mismatched socks, was just too easy to manipulate. He was the perfect target. She’d been pretending to be nice, but behind that mask of faux-friendliness, she was planning her revenge. Ancelotti had become her puppet, his every move orchestrated by her. She had him wrapped around her little finger, and it was only a matter of time before she pulled the s

Author's povCaroline grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, the condensation clinging to the glass like tiny diamonds. She gulped it down, the icy liquid momentarily soothing the burning sensation in her throat. It was the kind of burning you felt after a good fight, not a physical one, but a mental one. The kind that left you feeling raw and exposed.Her eyes drifted to the front door, where Maralyn had stormed out just minutes before. The slam of the door still echoed in Caroline's ears, a reminder of the power struggle that had just unfolded. And while Maralyn had left, the fight, Caroline knew, was far from over. She wanted to feel triumphant, to feel that sweet sense of vindication that came with getting the upper hand. But instead, she felt a strange hollowness. Maralyn's apology had been half-hearted, laced with a resentment that Caroline could practically taste. It wasn't the kind of apology that closed a chapter; it was the kind that only opened up a new one, a more dan

Author's povThe air in Grandma Agnes's kitchen was thick with the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls. But Caroline couldn't even taste the sugary goodness. All she could feel was a hollow ache in her chest, a feeling that had been there ever since Maralyn dropped that bombshell. "Barren. You're barren." The word echoed in her mind, a cruel taunt whispered by the wind. Its almost 7 years now but she keeps getting flashes of the past."Caroline, dear, are you listening?" Grandma Agnes's voice, warm and comforting like a cup of hot cocoa on a snowy day, snapped her out of her thoughts."Uh-huh," Caroline mumbled, pushing another bite of cinnamon roll around her plate. "You've been so quiet. You've barely touched your breakfast," Grandma Agnes said, her brow furrowing with concern."I'm just… tired, I guess," Caroline said, forcing a smile. Grandma Agnes gave her a knowing look. "Tired of what, honey? Tired of being so sad? It's been a week since Jeffrey left, and you haven't even shed a