STEP ASIDE EX-HUSBAND: THE RISE OF LIANA의 모든 챕터: 챕터 241 - 챕터 250

Adrian’s POVThe days after the conference unsettled me in ways I couldn’t easily name. Seeing Isabella again had cracked something open, a quiet fracture that widened the more I tried to ignore it. She had moved forward without bitterness, without regret. That was what haunted me most.I returned to my routines, hoping familiarity would dull the edges. Morning workouts. Back to back meetings. Late dinners alone. It all felt rehearsed, like a life I knew how to perform but no longer inhabit.One evening, as I was reviewing reports at home, my phone buzzed.Unknown number.I ignored it at first. Then it buzzed again.Isabella.I stared at the screen longer than necessary before answering.“Hello.”“Hi,” she said. Her voice was steady, unguarded. “I hope this isn’t intrusive.”“It’s not,” I replied. “I was surprised.”“I debated calling,” she admitted. “But I didn’t want to leave things unsaid.”I leaned back on the couch. “What things.”She paused. “The truth.”I said nothing.“I don’t

Adrian’s POVLetting Isabella into my life didn’t happen all at once. It unfolded in measured moments, each one deliberate, each one asking more of me than I was used to giving. She didn’t move in. She didn’t leave things behind. She simply showed up when she said she would, and left when she sensed I needed space.It was unfamiliar. And unsettling.We started with dinners that lasted too long and conversations that refused to stay on the surface. She asked about my childhood, about the early years before ambition hardened into necessity. I found myself answering questions I had never offered freely before.“You learned control early,” she said one night. “It kept you safe.”“It kept me successful,” I corrected.She smiled. “Both can be true.”I watched her then, the way she listened without trying to shape my answers into something convenient. With Camilla, there had been comfort in shared history. With Isabella, there was confrontation. Not aggressive. Just honest.At work, rumors c

Adrian’s POVThe following weeks settled into a rhythm I hadn’t anticipated. Work was demanding, yet manageable. Life outside the office felt fuller, more deliberate. Isabella’s presence was steady without being suffocating, and for the first time in years, I felt capable of holding something fragile without breaking it.We shared meals more often. Walks through the city when deadlines permitted. Evenings spent planning small adventures rather than strategizing endlessly. Each moment felt intentional, a reminder that the life I had built could coexist with the one I wanted.At the office, people began to notice subtle changes. My decisions were more inclusive. Meetings ran efficiently but with a newfound openness. Even the board seemed less rigid, less fearful. Perhaps they sensed the difference in my approach, the way I had learned to embrace honesty over control.One afternoon, Isabella appeared at my office door with a stack of project reports. She didn’t knock, just leaned casuall

Adrian’s POVThe next morning, I woke earlier than usual, the apartment still quiet except for the soft hum of the city beyond the windows. Isabella was already awake, reading in the living room, her posture relaxed yet attentive. I watched her for a moment, appreciating the calm she brought with her presence. It wasn’t demanding or forceful. It was steady.“Morning,” I said, walking toward her.She looked up and smiled. “Good morning. Coffee?”“Yes,” I replied, moving to the kitchen.The simple rhythm of making coffee, filling mugs, and setting them on the table felt like a ritual, a grounding point in a life that had once been defined by chaos. Isabella joined me, sitting across the small table, her hands wrapped around her mug.“I like this,” she said quietly. “The quiet mornings.”“Me too,” I admitted. “It’s rare.”She nodded. “You’ve changed,” she said softly. “Not just for me, but for yourself.”I paused. “I’ve realized control isn’t everything. Connection matters more.”Her eye

Adrian’s POVThe weekend arrived quietly, without fanfare. For the first time in years, I didn’t spend it buried in work or meticulously planning every second. Instead, I let the hours stretch out in a way that felt unfamiliar and surprisingly freeing. Isabella and I had planned nothing in particular, and that was precisely the point.We woke late, sunlight spilling into the apartment and painting the walls gold. She made coffee, her hands moving with ease and familiarity. I watched her, noticing the small gestures I had missed before—the way she stirred, the way her eyes lingered on the steam rising from the cup, the way she smiled at the ordinary.“Good morning,” she said softly, offering me the mug.“Good morning,” I replied, taking it.We lingered at the table, sipping coffee, talking about nothing important. It was peaceful, grounding, and for the first time, the silence between us was comfortable rather than charged.Later, we walked along the river, the city alive around us but