Semua Bab After Divorcing My Ex-husband, I Returned And Shined: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Audrey povThe sharp bang of something slamming against a hard surface made me jump.I froze, my hands gripping the edge of the book I had been flipping through absentmindedly. The sound had come from down the hall—Michell’s office.My heartbeat quickened.It wasn’t unusual for him to be harsh, cold, or demanding, but that… that had been different. It wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t calculated.It was anger.Real, unfiltered, dangerous anger.I hesitated before stepping toward the door. I had no business prying, but something in my gut told me this wasn’t about me.Or Amelia.Something else had set him off. Something bigger.Just then, Amelia appeared, looking as lost as me, “What is that sound?” she asked.I quickly put on a smile and took her little hand, “Nothing, probably from the television.”***My mind drifted to his warning.One strike down. Four left. I couldn’t afford another mistake. Mr Garcia had made that crystal clear, and the last thing I wanted was to give him a reas

Michell povI sat behind my desk, my fingers steepled as I watched the time tick by. Harold was late. The man had nerve—posting that nonsense and thinking he could get away with it. The headline alone was irritating, but the video? That was calculated. Designed to drag my name through the mud along with Audrey’s. A mistake. One he was about to regret. So he was the ex husband. Little wonder their interaction that night.The door opened. My assistant stepped in, followed closely by Harold. He looked different than I remembered. His suit was expensive, but it didn’t fit right. Like he’d lost weight too fast, or he didn’t have the money to tailor it anymore. Good. I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. “Sit.” He hesitated. Swallowed. Then obeyed. I let the silence stretch. Let him feel it. Finally, I leaned forward, resting my arms on the desk. “You have twenty-four hours.” Harold shifted. “I—” “Not a word.” My voice was calm, but it shut him up instantly.

Audrey povI barely slept, but when my alarm rang, I forced myself up. If there was ever a day I needed to be perfect, it was today. One more strike, and I was gone.I went over Amelia’s schedule again, making sure every detail was precise. Breakfast at 8:00 sharp, playtime from 8:30 to 9:00, reading at 9:15—not a single second off. Amelia sat at the table, happily swinging her legs as she munched on her toast. “Audrey, did you know some birds can talk?” I smiled. “I did. Parrots, right?” “Uh-huh! Daddy told me that some of them can even copy voices perfectly.” “That’s true.” I reached for her juice and refilled it. “Do you think Mr. Floppy would make a good talking bunny?” She giggled. “Nooo. Mr. Floppy only talks to me.” I laughed softly. Then footsteps approached. Mr Garcia.He stopped by the dining table, eyes immediately flicking to Amelia’s plate, then to me. “She’s still eating.” I frowned slightly. “She just has a few bites left.” “The schedule says breakfast

Amelia povThe door clicked softly behind me, but my mind was already miles away, replaying Mr Garcia’s words over and over in my head.“You have to survive the week without getting another strike.”It was absurd. Impossible, even. How could he expect me to balance all the chaos surrounding Harold’s lawsuit, my own mounting stress, and Amelia’s care without slipping up? The demands he’d already placed on me felt like enough to break anyone, and now he was adding one more, as if I could simply wave a magic wand and make everything work.I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to slam something—anything—against the walls. I didn’t have time for this. I didn’t have the luxury of frustration.Still, his offer lingered, like a sickly-sweet promise that left a bitter aftertaste. He would help me with Harold, but only if I could somehow manage to stay perfect. No mistakes, no signs of weakness. Just… survive.I could feel his eyes on me again, the way he had looked at me when I finally agre

Audrey povI sat in my room, staring at my phone, waiting for Greg to call back. The moment Mr. Garcia told me his lawyers were pulling strings, everything had started moving faster than I expected. Depositions, restraining orders, counter-motions—I could barely keep up with the legal jargon, let alone process the fact that Mr. Garcia was handling things like it was just another business deal. I should have been relieved. I was relieved. But it also terrified me. This was no longer just my fight. Mr. Garcia had made it clear that he was involved, which meant I couldn’t afford to mess up. Not with Amelia’s routine, not with my testimony, not with anything. If I failed, I wouldn’t just be disappointing myself—I’d be proving him right. That I wasn’t capable. That I wasn’t strong enough to handle this. My phone buzzed. Greg.I exhaled sharply before answering. “Hey.” “I just got off the phone with Mr. Garcia’s legal team,” Greg said, his voice carrying the exhaustion I felt. “T