All Chapters of Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

202 Chapters

Chapter Thirty One

The early evening light bled softly into the living room, turning the walls a shade of warm gold as the wind outside nudged gently at the windows. The house felt peaceful now, with Zane finally tucked away in his room, arranging his new toys from the morning’s surprise.I rubbed a hand along the back of my neck, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It had been a long day... longer than most but the kind that left your heart full. I still wasn’t used to this kind of quiet joy. Five years in and it still felt like a borrowed dream.Caleb sat across from me on the sofa, arms stretched lazily over the cushion. He looked tired, maybe a little older, but in that good, weathered way life can age a man. The warm mug Christine had brought him earlier rested half-forgotten between his hands.Christine had stepped in just before I sat down, as if on cue, carrying a wooden tray with a porcelain mug and a small plate of almond biscuits. “Still like it with one sugar?” she asked Cale

Chapter Thirty Two

The morning Caleb left, the house felt too quiet. It always did after he visited. He had a way of filling the rooms with his calm presence, like a gentle current that steadied everything in its path. Zane missed him already, I could tell from the way he stood by the window after breakfast, pressing his little fingers to the glass like he was waiting for the car to return. “He’ll be back soon,” I whispered, brushing my fingers through his curls. “You know Uncle Caleb always finds his way back.” Zane nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. I kissed the top of his head and walked into the kitchen where Christine was brewing her signature herbal tea. She looked up from the counter and handed me a cup without needing to ask. “Long night?” she asked. I smiled tiredly. “I haven’t slept properly since I found out about the presentation.” She leaned on the counter. “They cancel

Chapter Thirty Three

The scent of California air was different. Crisper. Saltier. Carried by sun-soaked winds that had once held all my dreams and now carried every buried memory I wasn’t ready to face. We stepped off the plane just past noon. The airport buzzed with activity… announcements overhead, luggage wheels rumbling, scattered laughter and footsteps echoing down marble halls. I hadn’t been back to the States in five years, and now I was walking through it as Camilla Jones, not Tessa Anderson. A life traded for another. A ghost with a pulse. “Mommy! There he is!” Zane’s excited voice tugged me from my thoughts. I looked up just as Caleb stepped forward from the waiting area. He wore jeans and a white shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, his expression softening the moment he saw us. Zane took off before I could say anything, arms wide, hair bouncing with every step.

Chapter Thirty Four

Richard’s POV If anyone asked, I’d say I didn’t want to be at the ceremony. And it would be the truth. The suits, the handshakes, the stiff smiles... they were just costumes for men like me to wear while pretending we’d moved on. Pretending we didn’t carry the ghosts of past failures in every room we entered. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration. An elite gathering of architectural minds and global tycoons under one glittering roof. But as I stood near the bar with a half empty glass of scotch and a tired smile, I felt nothing. Not even the usual flicker of pride. Until I heard her name. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my honor to announce the winner of the International Architect of the Year Award… flown in all the way from Europe, Camilla Jones!” I didn’t clap at first. I couldn’t. Something in my chest shifted... tightened. Then she step

Chapter Thirty Five

After the ceremony, I drove home in silence.Not even the radio dared to fill the void.The city's lights blurred past my window, neon streaks smearing across the glass as my mind replayed every moment on that dance floor. The curves of her face. The tension in her voice. The refusal in her smile. She was graceful, poised, but guarded like a woman who had mysteries.Mystery I suddenly wanted to uncover.I parked the car without even realizing I’d pulled into the driveway. My hand lingered on the steering wheel longer than necessary. I wasn't ready to go inside. Not back to the sterile, echoing quiet of a house that had long since stopped feeling like home.Still, I stepped out and walked into the house.The living room lights were on, casting a warm, honey colored glow over the modern space. My mother was sitting on one of the sofas, sipping tea with Stacy across from her. They both turned the moment they heard the door open.

Chapter Thirty Six

Camilla’s POVThe ballroom glittered like something out of a dream... gold light cascading from the chandeliers, polished marble floors echoing the soft click of shoes, laughter, glasses clinking. And in the center of it all, I stood… a stranger in a city that once knew me.Camilla Jones.The name rolled so easily now that I almost believed it. Almost.But nothing could prepare me for when he stepped out of the crowd.Richard.Time stopped the moment our eyes met... his widening with a flicker of disbelief, mine steady, unreadable. I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t afford to. His confusion was delicious. A man trying to piece together a ghost that shouldn’t exist. Good.That’s when he walked over, slowly, like someone approaching a dream they’re afraid might vanish if they breathe too hard.He asked me to dance.I should’ve said no.But I didn’t.Because my revenge had a rhythm tonight. And

Chapter Thirty Seven

The sun was barely up when the vibration of my phone stirred me awake. I blinked against the soft rays filtering through the sheer curtains, blindly reaching for the device on my nightstand. Zane was curled up beside me… after he had a nightmare in his room, his small arms clinging to my pillow like a lifeline. His soft breathing reminded me why I had fought so hard to stay hidden.My screen lit up again, unknown number.I frowned and answered groggily, my voice still thick with sleep. “Hello… Camilla Jones speaking.”There was silence on the other end for a second.Too long.Then came a voice I hadn’t expected to hear this soon.“Hey… Camilla. It’s Richard Anderson.”My heart skipped.I sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Zane. My pulse quickened before I could stop it. That name. That voice. My past trying to claw its w

Chapter Thirty Eight

I loved the restaurant for its silence. The kind of silence that forced you to listen to your own breathing, to the clink of forks in the distance, to the unspoken thoughts swelling between every line of conversation. It was intimate, yes... but not romantic. That was the trick. Soft enough to lower his guard, but sharp enough for me to stay in control. I sat by the window, the daylight washing over my skin, casting delicate shadows over the high collar of my beige silk blouse. My hair a bit darker now, with softer curls was styled into a low, elegant twist. Not a single strand out of place. My makeup was light, just enough to polish what was already carefully sculpted. This was lunch with the devil... not a date. Every part of me was a weapon, and he didn’t even know he’d already been disarmed. I watched the entrance through the reflection on my water glass. I recognized his stride before I even saw his face... confident, measured, a man used to owning whatever room he stepped

Chapter Thirty Nine

The smell of garlic and fresh thyme filled the air, curling through the open plan kitchen as I stirred the sauce gently on the stove. Christine was by the sink chopping parsley, humming under her breath. The quiet rhythm of domestic peace. The kind of normalcy I’d spent years trying to rebuild. “Richard is coming over,” I said softly, without looking up. Christine’s hand paused mid-chop. “Tonight?” she asked. I nodded. “Dinner. Just a casual talk about the project.” Her expression tightened for a moment, then softened. “Should I stay out of sight?” “No,” I said quickly. “I want it to look… normal. Like I have nothing to hide.” She studied me. “Camilla… you sure about this?” “Don’t say that,” I whispered. Her eyes widened slightly. I cleared my throat. “Sor

Chapter Forty

The next morning… the sun filtered through the linen curtains, soft and golden, like something out of a dream. Except I was wide awake. The kind of awake that came not from rest but from responsibility. I slid out of bed and moved through the house like I’d done a hundred mornings before… but this one felt different. The house was still unfamiliar in the quiet, but it had become home, if only for the sake of my son. Christine was already up, humming faintly from the kitchen, her hands moving with practiced grace as she set out Zane’s breakfast. “Morning,” I greeted softly, tightening the sash of my robe. She turned with a warm smile. “Morning, Miss Jones. Or should I say… Award-winning architect Miss Jones?” I gave a soft laugh, grateful for her usual lightness. “Let’s not inflate my ego too early.” She handed me a mug of coffee. “Too late. It’s already in the pape

1 2 3 4 5 6

...

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP