All Chapters of Chasing The Stubborn Ex-Wife: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The house was silent except for the faint city noises leaking through the windows: distant sirens, the hush of midnight traffic, a dog barking on some unseen street. Evelyn shifted in her bed, the moonlight tracing silver lines across the duvet. Sleep would not come—her mind raced, weighed down by the day’s struggles and tomorrow’s unknowns. Outside her door, a faint glow edged under the frame: someone was still awake.She rose, moving barefoot down the carpeted hall, tugging her sweater tighter around her. The living room was aglow in the warm spill of a single table lamp. Files, ledgers, and clippings blanketed the coffee table and floor in disarray—a battlefield of paperwork and exhausted ambition.Hunter was sprawled lengthwise on the sofa, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep. One arm was bent over his eyes, shielding them from the light, the other dangled near a sheaf of reports. His tie was loosened, the collar of his white shirt open, and his angular jaw wa

Evelyn hummed quietly as she stacked the clean plates. The scent of lemon dish soap hung in the air, blending with the fading aromas of roast chicken and cornbread. It was peaceful in Grandma’s cheerful kitchen—a sanctuary from the world’s chaos and her own relentless worries. She paused, running a finger over a faded sunflower on the tea towel, her thoughts drifting between the evening’s laughter and the slow-burning questions Hunter’s promise had awakened within her.A creak at the back door sliced through her reverie. Evelyn frowned, drying her hands on a towel. It was late—most of the neighbors would never barge in; only family ever did. The door opened hesitantly, squeaking on its hinges, and a thin, haggard figure slipped inside. Sophia. Her sister moved as if carrying invisible weights, head bowed, eyes rimmed red and swollen. For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The last time Sophia had come here, she’d left in a storm of accusations and bitter tears. Seeing her now—face blotchy,

Evelyn fussed with the tea towels for the third time, folding and unfolding them until her knuckles hurt. Outside, dusk had fallen hard and sudden—a thick indigo sky pressing against the window panes. The house was too quiet. The clock on the mantel ticked, drawing her agitation into sharp relief. Where was Hunter?He’d been missing from her days for nearly a week. No cheerful presence at her door, no clumsy offers to carry groceries. When they spoke on the phone, he sounded rushed—distracted. Promises to visit fell apart as hours stretched into evenings. “Just a busy week at the company Evie,” he’d said the last time, and she’d bit back her irritation but it had gnawed at her since.She told herself not to care. She told herself she had learned better, that the soft-eyed hope Hunter stirred in her was nothing but a foolish yearning for days past. Yet, every day she waited, and every day the same cold ache cut deeper.Tonight she reached her limit. Hunter had promised to stop by after

The beach had been transformed for the wedding—a secret cove shimmering under the afternoon sun, the tide lapping soft applause. White roses lay strewn around driftwood arches and delicate chuppah drapes of sheer silk, dancing in the salt-soaked breeze. Seashells lined the aisle, catching the gold and blue of the sky, forming a path for Evelyn to walk toward her future, each step a story reclaimed from heartbreak.Guests gathered in a loose crescent, their chairs pressed into the sand. At the front, a driftwood altar, half-circled by wildflowers, framed the ocean’s horizon. Beyond the guests, the world dropped away: no city noise, no old grudges, just the hush and the waves and the promise of beginning again.Edwin stood at the makeshift arch, his suit wrinkled by the salt air, hands trembling. He knew—everyone knew—that his feelings for Evelyn had always run deeper than friendship, always shaded by the longing for what could never be. Yet no regret showed in his smile as he took her

The private jet sliced through the cloudless sky, silver and clean against a world of soft blue. Sunlight streamed through the windows, pooling in golden puddles across the pale leather seats, glinting off Hunter’s wedding band as he laced his fingers through Evelyn’s. She didn’t let go, not for a single mile of the flight, and each soft squeeze sent a thrill humming through her chest. She was his wife now—hers, always.Evelyn had imagined their honeymoon would be impossible, a dream reserved for someone else’s fate. Yet here she was, glowing inside and out, her hand safely locked in Hunter’s grip as they soared across continents to a place where the world felt impossibly far away. A blend of luxury and intimacy: secluded cliffs, private plunge pools, sandy coves lit by lanterns and moonlight—every whim attended to but every moment theirs alone.Hunter caught her staring out the window, lost in thought. “Planning our next great adventure, Mrs. Blackwood?” He murmured her new name, sav