All Chapters of Longing For My Ex-Wife: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Maya didn’t go to her parents’ house that night.The moment she stepped out of the Carter estate, she couldn’t even think straight. Her feet felt heavy, her mind blank. The humiliating words still rang in her ears, each one sharper than the last.Instead of calling Colton or telling the driver to take her to the Denovan estate, she flagged down a cab herself. She didn’t even care that she was still in the elegant dress her mother had insisted she wear, her hair and makeup still perfect on the outside. Inside, she was shattered.“Where to, ma’am?” the cab driver asked politely.She hesitated for a moment, then muttered her apartment address. Her voice was low, almost breaking, but she didn’t want anyone to see her cry—not yet.The ride felt endless. She kept her gaze fixed on the city lights rushing past the window, but her mind kept replaying Grandma Margaret’s voice over and over: “A lowlife like her… a poor girl like her… she’s just a mere fashion designer… she’s a gold digger…”Her

After Maya finished eating the warm chicken and vegetable soup Colton had brought her, she took a long, shaky breath. The weight in her chest had eased only slightly, but the ache in her heart still lingered. She pushed the empty bowl aside and quietly murmured a “thank you” to her brother.Colton gave her a small nod, his expression still stormy. “Come on,” he said, standing up. “I’m taking you home. Mom and Dad need to see you.”The drive to the Denovan estate was quiet. Colton kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting near the gear shift, his jaw clenched. Every few minutes, he glanced at her as if checking to make sure she was still holding together. Maya sat back in her seat, staring out the window at the blur of buildings and trees passing by.Her mind kept replaying the scene from last night—the coldness in Grandma Margaret’s voice, the way the other family members had laughed, the shame that burned her cheeks. She gripped the hem of her dress in her fists, tryi

Rebecca stepped out of her room, her silk night robe swaying lightly as she stretched her arms. She had just finished a long phone call with one of her friends when she spotted her father standing at the end of the hallway, speaking with one of the house staff.“Rebecca,” he called out, his voice carrying a note of excitement. “Mrs Margaret carter just called. She’s arranged for you to have dinner with Elias tomorrow night.”The words barely left his mouth before Rebecca’s entire face lit up. “What? Are you serious?” she asked, her tone almost squealing with delight.Her father gave a satisfied nod. “It’s already set. She said Elias will be picking you up himself.”Rebecca could hardly contain herself. Her heart raced — not because she didn’t know Elias well, but because she had been waiting for this moment. She had been confident from the very beginning that Elias’s grandmother, Margaret Carter, would never accept Maya. In Rebecca’s mind, the reason was obvious: Maya was nothing but

The warm scent of vanilla filled the Denovan estate kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the wide windows, painting golden patches across the marble counters. The maids had cleared one end of the countertop for baking, lining up bowls of sugar, flour, eggs, and chocolate chips in neat rows.Maya stood beside Anika, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Anika wore a little apron patterned with pink strawberries, her face already dusted with streaks of flour from her overenthusiastic mixing.“Okay, chef,” Maya said with a grin, handing Anika the wooden spoon, “your turn to stir. And remember, gently.”Anika nodded solemnly, then immediately stirred so fast the dry ingredients puffed into the air in a small cloud. One of the maids giggled from the side, holding a mixing bowl.“Gently, I said!” Maya laughed, trying to slow Anika’s arm. “Not like you’re starting a tornado in the bowl.”“It’s more fun this way!” Anika declared, grinning from ear to ear.“You’ll get flour

The little coffee shop on the corner of Willow Street was unusually quiet that afternoon. The usual chatter of students and office workers was muted, replaced by the low hum of soft jazz coming from the speakers overhead. The air smelled faintly of roasted beans and warm vanilla, a scent that usually comforted Maya. But today, even the smell of fresh coffee couldn’t calm the restless beat of her heart.She sat at a table tucked into the far corner, away from the front windows. Her hands were wrapped tightly around a warm mug of cappuccino, as if she could absorb steadiness from its heat. She had arrived early, partly because she didn’t want to walk into the café at the same time as Elias, but mostly because she needed a few moments to prepare herself for this meeting.She had almost said no when he’d called earlier, his voice low and hopeful, asking if they could talk in person. A big part of her still wanted to ignore him completely. But another part — the part that still ached for h