All Chapters of After Divorce, My Wife Becomes The Boss Lady : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Davina’s POVI was too tired.Not the kind of tiredness that a nap could fix. The kind that sat in your bones and made everything feel like too much. I made it through most of the board meeting just nodding and scribbling in my notebook even though nothing I wrote made sense. I think I made one or two useful comments. Maybe not. No one said anything.When it finally ended, I walked out slowly. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone. I didn’t stop by my office. I just went straight to the elevator, took it down, and sat in the backseat of the car.Tim wasn’t with me. He had gone to some off-site review I didn’t remember agreeing to. I didn’t even ask the driver where we were going. I just told him to drive around for a while. No destination. Just… away from the building.I sat there in silence for a long time, phone in my hand, screen black. I didn’t turn it on. I didn’t want to read another message or calendar reminder or missed call.I rested a hand on my belly. There was a small kick. Then

DavinaWe just sat there for a while. Her arms were around me. My head was on her chest. Neither of us said anything, but it didn’t feel weird. It felt okay. Like silence wasn’t something we had to fix.I wasn’t thinking about the office. Or the emails I hadn’t read. Or the meetings I’d probably have to reschedule. I wasn’t even thinking about Sebastian. Or the company. Or the weight I usually carried on my back every day.I was just there.With her.I had things I could’ve said. A thousand questions are buried deep. Stories I had stuffed so far down that I didn’t even know where they began anymore. But I didn’t open my mouth. I didn’t ask. I didn’t explain.I just let myself be held.And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I had to fill the silence with something smart or useful. I let her be a mother. I let myself be a daughter.A soft knock broke it.Then the door creaked open.“Rose?” Father’s voice. Softer than usual. Careful.I turned a little, lifting my head.

DavinaI didn’t flinch. I didn’t react. I kept my face neutral like someone who had hurt me hadn't just been mentioned. Alex.Hearing his name was prickly and irritating. But I wasn’t going to pick at it. Not here. Not now. Not when things finally felt… not broken. If only they knew what he did. But I won't tell them, they don't have to know. He didn’t deserve to take up space here. Not in this room. Not in my mind. Not on this night that felt a little too fragile to carry anything else.So I tucked the thought of him away, stuffed it into some locked-up corner of myself, and held onto the moment instead.My mother’s gaze lingered longer than I liked. She was trying to read me. She always did that when she sensed something wasn’t right. And she wasn’t wrong. But I smiled anyway—small, steady.“You don’t need to worry,” I said casually. Like nothing in the world was weighing on me.She didn’t look convinced.“I am your mother, Stasha. I’ll always worry.”“I know.” I nodded once, not

DavinaThe thing about slowing down was that eventually, I stopped fighting it. I stopped counting the weeks. Stopped checking the time every hour. It just... passed.I was in my seventh month now. That fact snuck up on me like most things had lately. Time wasn’t dragging anymore. It was just quiet. Steady. Something I let move on its own without trying to control it.The fear of whether or not I will be a good mother still lingered somewhere at the back of my mind but the thought wasn't as gnawing as it was months ago. My parents had been more present than ever. And I let them be. I didn’t shut them out. I didn’t pretend to be okay when I wasn’t, but I also didn’t dump my weight on them. We found a strange, workable rhythm. That was new for us.They suggested a picnic one morning. Not a grand thing. Just us. Blankets. Food. Some fresh air. I didn’t protest. I didn’t even roll my eyes like I used to."Are you sure you’ll be okay out there?" my mother asked, holding a thermos like it

Chapter 100DavinaIt didn’t hit me right away. Not when they left. Not when Mom gave me that little smile as she cleaned up the plates with the maids. Not even when I went upstairs and sat on my bed doing absolutely nothing.It hit me much later.When the house was quiet again.When the echoes of dinner faded and the stillness returned.That’s when I realized I had done something I hadn’t done in a long time.I let someone in.Not all the way. Not deep. But I cracked the door open. Just enough for air to pass through. Just enough for someone like Elijah to step through slowly without stomping around in the space I’ve spent years guarding.It wasn’t planned. I didn’t mean to let it happen. But it did.And now I couldn’t stop thinking about it.I reached for my journal—not the thick one with heavy covers and an expensive pen clipped to the side. The other one. The cheap one I got a month that still had so many blank pages, mostly because I’d stopped writing the moment everything in my