Semua Bab RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND CHASED ME BACK: Bab 81 - Bab 90

I didn’t realize how much tension I’d been holding in my body until Jeff wrapped his arms around me that evening.It was late. The office had long emptied, and the moon had risen, casting silver shadows over my apartment. I’d just stepped out of the shower when he texted:“Can I come over? Just to talk.”I almost said no.But something inside me—a quieter part, the part that still remembered how his voice sounded when he whispered goodnight—nudged me toward yes.So I said okay.And now, here he was. Standing barefoot in my living room, hands tucked into his pockets, looking like the same man who used to hum while making pancakes on Sunday mornings… and yet entirely different. Changed. Softer, maybe. Or just more real.“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, breaking the quiet. “About everything, really.”I stood near the kitchen counter, arms crossed—not out of anger, but instinct. A shield.“I know,” I replied. “And I shouldn’t have brought up Stella the way I did. That was unfair.”He

When Demi fell asleep on the couch, her hand still wrapped in mine, I sat there for a long time just watching her breathe. The tension that had weighed on my chest for days—hell, maybe weeks—finally cracked. Not disappeared, but cracked. Enough for me to feel like maybe, just maybe, we were moving in the right direction again. But I knew better than to believe the battle was over. Because peace, especially with Demi, wasn’t something you stumbled into. It was something you built—brick by brick, truth by truth. The next morning, I cooked her breakfast. Nothing fancy, just scrambled eggs, avocado toast, and the coffee she liked. She looked surprised when she came into the kitchen wearing my shirt, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “You made coffee?” she mumbled, hair a soft mess of curls. “You deserve more than just coffee,” I said with a smile. “But yeah. It’s a start.” She blinked at me like she didn’t expect gentleness. And that? That broke something in me. “You okay?” I asked

The following morning, I woke up before the sun. It wasn’t something I did often, but the weight in my chest from the night before hadn’t quite lifted. Jeff was still asleep, one arm draped lazily across the space between us, his breathing soft and even. For a moment, I just lay there and watched him—the peacefulness of his face, the tiny furrow between his brows that never quite disappeared, even in rest.It was hard not to remember how things used to be. How mornings like these once felt effortless, warm. Back then, I’d wake up wrapped in his arms, and we’d talk about everything and nothing until we had to rush out the door, usually late. But this was different. Now there was a thin veil of fragility hanging between us. Like we were both afraid to move too fast, afraid it would all crack and shatter again.I slipped out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. I needed coffee—and space to think.By the time Jeff woke up, the apartment smelled like hazelnut roast and toasted bagels. He

The next morning, I woke up to the soft golden light bleeding through my blinds and the faint hum of the city coming to life. It should’ve been peaceful. But instead, my mind was already restless.The text.The rumors.The way my heart had stuttered in my chest when Jeff told me Stella was still talking about us like we were a plot point in her drama.I rolled over and stared at my nightstand.The charm bracelet still sat there. I hadn’t worn it again.Not because I didn’t want to.But because… I wasn’t sure if I could. Not yet.My phone buzzed with a notification. A photo.From Jeff.It was of the café where we used to get Sunday breakfast—the tiny one with chipped tile floors and the grumpy barista who somehow always gave us an extra croissant.Jeff: They’re repainting the windows. Looks like they’re trying to be all… modern now. Kinda weird without you here to roll your eyes at it.I stared at the message longer than I needed to. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.Me: Change is

The days that followed the pause were heavy.Not in the dramatic, fall-on-the-floor kind of way—but in the quieter, lonelier moments. Like the spaces between breaths when your chest aches, and you don’t even realize you’re holding in the air.Jeff didn’t text.And I didn’t reach out either.We weren’t playing a game. We were honoring the space. The silence. The need to be apart to see if we still belonged together.But every morning, my fingers hovered over my phone. Wondering. Waiting. Wishing.Chelsea noticed, of course.“Are you okay?” she asked over brunch that Sunday, sipping her orange juice while eyeing me over the rim of her glass.“Define okay,” I muttered, poking at my eggs like they owed me answers.She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “You’re allowed to be hurt. Confused. Angry. But you’re also allowed to miss him.”I looked at her, my throat tight. “What if I made a mistake?”Chelsea didn’t flinch. “Then you unmake it. But you don’t do it because you’re lonel