All Chapters of RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

I stood outside Jeff's apartment, heart pounding against my ribs. The weight of our history pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. After all the pain, the betrayal, and the years spent apart, here I was, about to step back into the lion's den.I knocked.The door opened almost immediately, as if he'd been standing just on the other side, waiting. Jeff looked... different. Older, perhaps. Or maybe just wearier. His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke."Come in," he said softly, stepping aside.I hesitated, then crossed the threshold. The apartment was familiar yet foreign. Some of our old furniture remained, but new pieces had taken their places. The walls, once adorned with photos of our shared adventures, were now bare."Can I get you something? Water? Wine?" Jeff offered, his voice tentative."Water's fine," I replied, my throat dry.He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room. My eyes wandered, landing on a framed photo on the

That evening, as I prepared dinner, my phone buzzed with a message from Jeff:Jeff: "I know I've hurt you, and I can't erase that. But I want to be someone you can trust again. Can we talk?"I stared at the screen, the aroma of garlic and herbs filling the kitchen, as memories of our past intertwined with the present. Taking a deep breath, I typed back:Me: "Come over. Let's talk."As I set an extra plate on the table, I realized that while the path ahead was uncertain, I was willing to take the first step towards understanding, closure, or perhaps, a new beginning.***I didn’t dress up. I didn’t light candles. I didn’t even bother to reapply lip gloss.This wasn’t a date.This was a conversation. One that had been crawling beneath my skin for weeks, maybe months. A conversation that needed to be peeled open like a wound. Because whatever Jeff thought he was doing—showing up with flowers, warm coffee, lingering glances—I needed clarity. Not games. Not nostalgia wrapped in ribbon and

The morning after Jeff’s confession felt like walking through fog—thick, disorienting, and impossible to escape. I kept replaying his words, the sincerity in his eyes, the way he said he’d wait for me. No pressure, no expectations. Just hope.Chelsea, ever the orchestrator, had taken it upon herself to “test” Jeff’s intentions. And while I initially resisted, part of me was grateful. I needed to see if his actions matched his words.At the office, Chelsea was unusually quiet, her eyes darting between me and the door. I raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”She feigned innocence. “Me? Nothing. Just… maybe scheduled a meeting.”Before I could press further, the door opened, and in walked Jeff, carrying a box of pastries from my favorite bakery. He looked nervous, which was rare for him.“Morning,” he said, placing the box on my desk. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”I glanced at Chelsea, who was suddenly very interested in her computer screen. Turning back to Jeff, I nodded. “Than

It had been a week since that conversation in the café, and every day since felt like a slow unraveling of everything I’d tried so hard to tuck away.Jeff didn’t push after that day. No late-night calls. No over-the-top gestures. Just quiet, consistent presence. He texted good morning. He sent me silly memes. He asked about my day. And strangely, it wasn’t suffocating.It was comforting.And that scared me.Because I remembered too well what came after comfort the last time. I remembered how it felt to have the rug pulled out from under my life just when I’d thought we were finally solid. Jeff didn’t just break my heart—he shattered my sense of certainty. So even if he was different now, even if he was trying… how could I believe it wouldn’t happen again?“Earth to Demi,” Chelsea snapped her fingers in front of my face.I blinked. We were at a small rooftop wine bar downtown, watching the sun dip behind the buildings, painting the sky in shades of lavender and gold.“What?” I asked, s

The following week unfolded like a delicate dance, each step measured, each movement tentative. Jeff and I continued our cautious re-engagement, sharing brief lunches, exchanging playlists, and occasionally walking together after work. It was comfortable, familiar, yet tinged with the uncertainty of uncharted territory.One evening, as we strolled through the park near our office, Jeff turned to me with a thoughtful expression.“Demi,” he began, “there's something I've been meaning to tell you.”I glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”He hesitated, then continued, “Stella reached out to me last week. She wanted to talk about some unresolved matters.”A chill ran down my spine. The name alone was enough to stir a whirlwind of emotions.“What did she want?” I asked, striving for composure.“She apologized for everything,” Jeff said. “She admitted to her mistakes and wanted closure.”I nodded slowly, processing his words. “And how did you feel about that?”Jeff sighed. “It was