All Chapters of After Divorcing My Ex-husband, I Returned And Shined: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Michell povI sat in my office, fingers steepled under my chin as the last of my legal team filed out. The meeting had gone exactly as expected—efficient, calculated, and airtight. Ms. Taylor had sat across from me, her shoulders squared, her hands clenched in her lap. She thought she was hiding it well, but I saw her fidgeting. The way her breathing changed when Harold’s name was mentioned. The way she kept swallowing, like she was trying to keep everything inside. She wanted to fight. I had seen that determination before, but this time, it wasn’t just about survival. She was fighting for something bigger. For herself. I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drifting toward the darkened windows. Months ago, I had expected her to fail. I had expected her to make a mistake, to crumble under the pressure. To prove that she was like every other woman who had tried to weasel her way into my life through my daughter. But she hadn’t. She followed the rules. Every single one. She

Audrey povThe air in the courtroom felt like it had thickened, the silence hanging heavy as the next part of the trial loomed. Harold’s plan to use me as the villain—the woman who had betrayed him—had begun to unravel in front of everyone, and now, Mr. Garcia’s legal team was ready to hit him where it hurt the most. My heart was pounding, and I could barely focus on the back-and-forth between the lawyers. Every so often, my eyes would flicker to Mr. Garcia, who stood across the room, exuding an air of quiet confidence as his team took over. Harold’s lawyers were still trying to salvage the story they had been telling—this narrative of my supposed infidelity. They had painted me as a woman who had been chasing after Mr. Garcia, trying to tear apart my family for a man who was far out of my reach. It was all lies, and they knew it. But now, they were about to see the truth. Mr. Garcia’s lawyer stepped up to the stand, folder in hand, eyes cold as he made his way toward the judg

Michell povI walked beside Ms. Taylor as we exited the courthouse, the cold afternoon air brushing against us. The tension from the courtroom still lingered, but Ms. Taylor’s shoulders had visibly lessened. She wasn’t the same woman who had walked into this mess. She had won. And yet, she was silent.Reporters and photographers swarmed outside, their cameras flashing, their voices blending into a chaotic mess of questions and accusations. My security team was already in place, ensuring we had a clear path to the car.“Ms. Taylor, do you have a statement?”“Did you really have an affair with Mr. Garcia?”“How do you feel about the ruling?”I felt her stiffen beside me, her pace steady but tense. She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The ruling had spoken for itself.I reached for the door, holding it open as she slipped inside. I followed, shutting out the noise of the outside world.The ride home was quiet. Ms. Taylor sat beside me in the car, staring out the window, lost in thoug

Michell pov Her skin was impossibly soft. Like silk warmed by the sun. The contact was fleeting—just a brush of her arm against mine as we moved in the kitchen. It shouldn’t have meant anything, but for some reason, it did. It sent a sharp, unwelcome sensation up my arm, something dangerously close to heat. A slow burn that settled in my chest, unwanted and unshakable. I stilled for a fraction of a second. So did she. Her breath caught, her lips parting just slightly. But before either of us could acknowledge it, before I could convince myself that I had imagined the way her skin felt against mine, I stepped back. “Sorry,” I muttered. For a second, it looked like she wanted to argue. But instead, her lips pressed together, and she shook her head. I didn’t wait for her response. I was already turning on my heel, leaving the kitchen before I made the mistake of brushing against her again. I took the stairs two at a time, my frustration mounting with every ste

AUDREY POV After Mr. Garcia left, I turned my full attention to Amelia. It was easier to focus on her—to drown myself in the structure of our daily routine rather than dwell on things I had no business thinking about. We started the morning with her coloring books, an activity that always kept her happily occupied for a good hour. She sat cross-legged on the living room floor, her tiny hands gripping her crayons as she carefully colored inside the lines. “Audrey, what’s your favorite color?” she asked suddenly, peering up at me with those big brown eyes. I smiled, settling beside her. “Hmm… I like green.” She wrinkled her nose. “Like broccoli?” I laughed. “Not exactly. More like… the color of the trees outside. Fresh and bright.” Amelia hummed in thought, then grabbed a green crayon and started coloring the dress of the princess on her page. “I think I like pink. And purple. And yellow.” “So, all the colors?” She giggled. “Not brown. Brown is boring.” I gasped dram