Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Sunlight stabbed through my eyelids like hot needles, dragging me unwillingly toward consciousness. My head pounded with the distinctive throb of wine regret, and my mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died. Groaning, I rolled away from the light, burying my face in a pillow that smelled unfamiliar—clean, expensive, and definitely not mine.My eyes snapped open.This wasn't my apartment. This wasn't my bed. And this sure as hell wasn't my life.The events of last night came flooding back in humiliating fragments: the dinner, the wine, my loose tongue spilling secrets, Alex driving me to his house instead of mine, me saying—oh God, what had I said to him? Something about him being just like Daniel? And then...nothing. The rest was a blank.I sat up too quickly, making the room spin. The emerald dress was twisted uncomfortably around my body, the silk now hopelessly wrinkled. My hair felt like a rat's nest, and my makeup had likely migrated south to give me attractive raccoon

Alex turned to face me fully, his expression more open than I'd ever seen it. "When I was twelve, I got lost in the Blue Ridge Mountains during a family vacation. I wandered for hours in the dark, cold and scared. And then..." He hesitated. "A girl found me. She was young, probably around my age. She brought me to her cabin, gave me food, let me warm up. She saved my life."The chill spread through my entire body now. This couldn't be what it sounded like."Before I left the next morning, she gave me a bracelet," he continued. "Made of glass beads she'd created herself. For luck, she said."My mouth went dry. "A lot of people make glass beads.""Not like these." He reached into his pocket and pulled out something that caught the morning light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the car's interior. A bracelet of familiar blue-green beads, the same unusual iridescence as the pendant I wore every day.My beads. My work. From a lifetime ago."That was you," he said softly, not a question

I slammed my alarm clock for the third time, burying my face deeper into my pillow. Fuck Monday. Fuck work. Fuck Alex Thorne and his lost-boy-from-the-woods bullshit.I'd spent the weekend alternating between rage-cleaning my apartment and staring at my phone, hovering between blocking Alex's number and calling to demand more explanations. I did neither. Instead, I sketched until my hand cramped, drank enough wine to blur the edges, and ignored the outside world entirely.Now reality crashed back in the form of a job I couldn't afford to lose, regardless of how fucked up things had gotten with my boss."You're going in late," I told my reflection as I dragged a brush through tangled hair. "Avoid him completely. Just do your job."I dressed with deliberate care—black pencil skirt, crisp white blouse, heels high enough to be professional but comfortable enough to run in if needed. Armor against whatever today might throw at me.The design floor was unusually quiet when I finally arrived

"What the fuck is this?" I demanded, voice shaking with rage.Alex closed the door behind him, moving slowly as if approaching a cornered animal. "I can explain.""Explain?" I brandished the papers. "Explain why you have surveillance photos of me? Medical records? Financial statements? Were you investigating me or fucking stalking me?""Neither." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I was building a case against Daniel.""By digging through my entire life?" The betrayal cut deeper than I wanted to admit. "Without my knowledge or consent?""Maya, please. Let me explain properly.""Fine." I crossed my arms, heart hammering against my ribs. "Explain why the CEO of a major design firm is playing private detective. Explain why you didn't tell me when you hired me that you'd been watching me for god knows how long."Alex sighed, gesturing toward the chairs by the window. "Will you sit? Please?""I'll stand.""Okay." He leaned against his desk, keeping

Despite Olivia's advice, I chose the plain black flats instead of my most intimidating heels. This wasn't about impression or power—it was about dignity and closure. Simple black pants, white blouse, minimal makeup.Thorne Designs looked exactly the same as I approached the building, which felt wrong somehow. My world had imploded, yet the revolving doors still turned, the security desk still buzzed with the same morning energy, the lobby's marble floors still gleamed under soft lighting."Ms. Russo," the receptionist greeted me, surprise evident in her tone. "You're... um... not in the system anymore.""I have a meeting with HR at ten," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady."Oh! Yes, here it is. I'll need to issue a temporary pass." She tapped at her computer, glancing up occasionally as if expecting me to cause another scene.The elevator ride was mercifully empty. I watched the numbers tick upward, breathing deeply to calm the nausea bubbling in my stomach. Tenth floor. HR's d