All Chapters of Pregnant and Divorced: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

ALEXANDER’S POVI sit at my desk—no, our altar—. My fingers tremble as I slowly smooth down the edges of a photograph. Her photograph. Emily.Her face is a perfect masterpiece, smiling innocently at the camera. She doesn’t even know I took that one. She was sipping coffee at that café on Rue de la Paix in Paris. Her eyes crinkled in that way they do when she’s really, really happy. I remember that morning. She wore a scarf, red with little white stars, and her hands were always cold. I watched her for hours, pretending to read while snapping a photo every time she looked away. No one ever noticed. No one ever saw me. But I saw everything.I saw her.Her beauty. Her grace. Her smile. She belonged to me then. She still does now.I look at the pile of y photos printed from her social media—the ones she posted before she blocked me. I memorized every one before they disappeared. And the ones I printed of her walking to work. Eating with friends. Laughing at something stupid Bridget or Hel

EMILY’S POVThe sitting room is filled with the sunlight coming through the windows. The scent of fresh roses and vanilla fills the air. Someone must’ve lit one of the new candles Helen brought. I try to focus on that, on the little things. The smell, the sunlight, the pretty swatches of fabric on the table. I need to focus on anything but the feeling of anxiety in my chest.I sit at the far end of the table, pretending to examine a catalog page that displays four-tiered wedding cakes with elaborate fondant flowers. My eyes scan the words, but nothing registers. I rest my hand on my belly. It’s rounder now, heavier with the life growing inside me. She kicks sometimes.Helen is in her element, standing at the head of the table with a pen behind her ear and her phone buzzing every few minutes. She snaps into action every time it does. “So, if we choose blush for the bridesmaids’ dresses, we’ll need to make sure it complements the venue’s lighting. Warm tones, remember. The sunset over t

Emily’s POVLater that night, I make my way to the staircase, fully dressed. I hold onto the railing as I descend, careful and slow—not just because of the growing baby bump that makes me feel awkward in my own body, but because I’m nervous. I have no idea what Carlos has planned tonight.All I know is that he told me to wear something nice. So here I am in a long, flowing silk gown, ivory with soft gold shimmer that catches the light whenever I move. It glides around my ankles but I can’t help but feel like I’m waddling. Damn pregnancy hormones.When I reach the bottom of the stairs, my eyes immediately find him.Carlos stands by the doors, looking like a scene straight out of a romance movie. He’s dressed in a fitted black suit with a charcoal shirt and no tie. His hair is styled back neatly, but a lock falls a little over his forehead. He’s holding something small in his hand. It’s a velvet box—and he’s smiling at me like I just lit up his entire world.My heart flutters uncontroll

EMILY’S POVI can feel my heart pounding as Helen, Bridget, and I pull up to the private bridal studio. The building looks like something out of a dream, my dream. I’m so excited.I wonder what kind of dress I’ll end up picking. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Helen squeezes my hand gently. “You’re going to be stunning, Emily. I promise.”Bridget nudges me playfully. “Don’t listen to Helen; she’s just saying that so she doesn’t have to pay for the dress.”I laugh softly despite my nerves. “Thanks, Bridget. That makes me feel so much better.” But beneath the smiles and light teasing, my stomach twists with anxiety. Today is more than just trying on wedding dresses. It is a milestone—a step closer to the life I am supposed to have.Also, I can’t stop feeling like something is going to go wrong. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. It’s probably just the anxiety talking.As we step inside, I gasp. The studio is spacious with creamy walls, and huge crystal chandeliers.My gran

CARLOS’ POVThe morning starts like every other. I had my daily routine. But I should’ve known the day was going to take a turn the moment Sarah walked beside me with an urgent look on her face. Her eyes were fixed on the iPad in her hands.“Sir” she says, scrolling. “There’s a potential deal coming across our table that could open new distribution channels. I’ve scheduled the meeting in Conference Room Three. The terms look favorable on paper.”I frown. “Who’s the client?”“An investment firm. They’re keeping the lead negotiator’s identity quiet until the meeting,” she answers,.That already makes my skin crawl. Deals that hide too much up front never end well. Still, I nod. “Fine. Let’s see what they have to offer.”I push open the glass door of the meeting room minutes later with Sarah trailing behind me. The place feels… wrong. It’s too quiet. The air is heavy for some reason. I scan the long table, the clean rows of chairs, the untouched water glasses. Everything looks normal but