All Chapters of Dear Ex-wife, You're More Than A Substitute: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

202 Chapters

Chapter Fifty One

The office was unusually quiet. Even the ticking of the clock on the far wall seemed to soften as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the floor. Zane was curled up on the small leather sofa beneath the window, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, completely lost to sleep. I’d dimmed the lights slightly, pulled a light jacket over him, and let him be. My laptop screen glowed in front of me, emails left unread, a design half-rendered. I couldn’t focus, not with the day we’d had. A soft knock came at the door, followed by the sound of it opening before I could answer. I looked up. Richard. He stood in the doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, a faint weariness in his eyes that made him look softer. Less... curated. His gaze landed on Zane, and something changed in his posture… he took a step in, slowly, like he didn’t want to wake him. “He’s asleep?

Chapter Fifty Two

Richard's POVIt started with a small smile.The first time Zane walked into my office, he barely looked up from the stuffed dino he had tucked under his arm. But by the third visit, he was already tugging at the corner of my suit jacket, asking if I had any more of “those minty candies” I kept in the drawer.I didn’t know when it started exactly, the way he grew on me.Maybe it was the way he lit up when Camilla walked into the room. Maybe it was the way he laughed without reservation or how he’d sketch little superheroes on scraps of blueprints with a pencil twice his hand size.Whatever it was, it snuck up on me fast and settled deep.Zane started coming to the office more frequently. Camilla had said he was on a short break between terms, and while I offered to help find a sitter, she’d simply said, “He’s better off with me.”So most mornings, I’d hear the tiny patter of feet down the corridor before I even saw him.

Chapter Fifty Three

Camilla’s POV The door clicked softly behind Richard as he stepped out, his usual scent woodsy, expensive, frustratingly familiar still hanging faintly in the air. The space grew quiet again, except for the low hum of the AC and the sound of Zane’s soft breathing from the sofa nearby. He had dozed off after lunch, his tiny fingers still clutching the corner of the sketchbook we’d been playing with earlier. I turned back to my desk, intending to organize my design files for VanderTech, but then I noticed it on the laptop. He had been sitting there moments ago, walking me through some architectural reference documents. I assumed he’d shut it. But he hadn’t. The screen was still on. His profile logged in. A confidential folder still open on the screen. He must’ve thought he’d logged out. I didn’t touch it. Not immediately. I just stared at the screen, at the highlighted document a

Chapter Fifty Four

Stacy’s POV I hated the way her name slid off his tongue. Camilla. He said it so casually, like she meant everything, just another architect working on his project. But I could hear the difference. The way his voice softened around her. The way his eyes lit up when she walked into the room. I wasn’t stupid. I’d known Richard long enough to recognize the signs. The quiet interest. The way he lingered around her office. The small smiles he thought no one noticed. And worst of all? She didn’t even try. Camilla Jones waltzed into our world with her tidy little resume and her too perfect curls, like she owned the place. All grace and calm confidence, the kind that made other women shrink in comparison. She didn’t flirt. She didn’t pander. She didn’t need to. Somehow, she still managed to hold his attention without lifting a finger. And he… he kept drifting closer. I saw it in the little things. How he let her son come to work. How he defended her when I pointed it out. How he start

Chapter Fifty Five

Stacy’s POVI’d driven for two hours straight without stopping… my heels on the gas pedal, my mind a maze of questions I couldn’t let go of. Something about Camilla Jones felt off. Too poised. Too perfect. Too… familiar.I’d seen her with Richard too many times now. The way he looked at her. The way she seemed to carry pieces of a ghost we all thought was buried.Tessa.No. I reminded myself, Tessa is dead. I made sure of it.But there’s something about the eyes, the way she smiles… polished, professional, but never quite empty. And if there’s even the smallest chance that woman is still breathing, then I need to know what she’s planning.Which brought me here, to a small house tucked away in the quieter part of the city. No cameras, no busybodies. Just peeling paint on wooden walls and the occasional dog barking in the distance.I smoothed out the front of my blouse and stepped out of the car, clicking the door shut behind me with intention. The concrete path leading up to the porch

Chapter Fifty Six

Camilla’s POVI wrapped the silk robe tighter around me as I stepped out into the quiet living room, my bare feet brushing against the soft rug beneath me. The scent of fresh jasmine floated through the open window, dancing with the early afternoon breeze. I hadn’t set an alarm. No emails. No morning traffic. Just a day to breathe.A day off work.Christine had taken Zane to the park for a little while he’d been begging to try his new rollerblades and I’d promised not to check emails or draft building layouts for at least one full day. It wasn’t easy; my fingers kept twitching toward my tablet. But I reminded myself I’d earned this.We’d earned this.I was halfway through a cup of chamomile tea, curled up on the couch, when the front door clicked open.Only one person had the key to walk in unannounced.“Caleb,” I called out, straightening a little and tucking my legs under me.“Hey,” his voice floated in from t

Chapter Fifty Seven

Camilla’s POV The next morning, the calm of my day off was quickly replaced by the usual thrum of office life. I arrived work a little after 9 a.m., with Zane dropped off at school and my laptop already buzzing with unread emails. I took the elevator straight up to the executive floor and passed by Stacy’s desk without acknowledging her presence. I felt her eyes follow me, her stare sharp and assessing, but I didn’t flinch. She was still trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Let her try. When I stepped into my office, I was pleasantly surprised to find fresh lilies placed in a glass vase on my desk. A small card was tucked beneath the stem. “You said you liked these once. Thought I’d remind you of that. — R.” My heart stuttered. The handwriting was elegant and deliberate. A perfect match for the man who once whispered he would memorize every piece of

Chapter Fifty Eight

Aside the location Richard sent, the driveway curved just like I remembered it. The tall pines swayed gently in the breeze, casting shadows across the manicured lawn as I pulled up to the front of the house I used to call home. But I wasn’t here to walk down memory lane, I was here to remind myself why I left it behind. The lights inside glowed like a beacon of the life I once imagined. The life I was robbed of. As I stepped out of the car, my heels tapped against the familiar stone pavement. I inhaled sharply, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. “Get a grip, Camilla,” I muttered under my breath. “This isn’t your home anymore. This is just another battlefield.” Before I could reach the door, it opened... almost like it had been watching, waiting. “Good evening, ma’am,” said the housekeeper. Lydia. The moment our eyes met, her face paled. Her lips trembled. She knew. The sa

Chapter Fifty Nine

After dinner at Richard’s house…I drove in silence, letting the city blur around me as if the night could wash away the burning in my throat. The moment I closed the car door behind me outside Richard’s home, I told myself not to fall apart. Not yet. I could still taste the mango juice. That acidic sweetness clung to my tongue like a warning. It scratched down my throat, curled in my chest like smoke. My body didn’t erupt into a full blown allergic reaction, not because it didn’t try but because I’d prepared. I always prepare. Stacy may think she’s smart, but she’s also obvious. From the moment Caleb told me about her visit to my stepmother’s house, I knew she was digging. That wasn’t curiosity, that was war. And tonight? That was her first strike. A glass of mango juice. So elegant. So simple. So quietly vicious. And yet… it didn’t catch me off guard. Not fully. I’d ta

Chapter Sixty

The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time I pulled into the office parking lot. It was past 10 a.m. unlike me. I rarely ever came in this late, but the events of last night had left my mind spinning. I had barely slept, haunted by the stinging echo of Stacy’s voice. Don’t like the taste? Or are you allergic to it, Tessa? She’d said my name like it was a loaded gun, aiming straight for the part of me I’d spent years burying beneath a new name, a new city, and a carefully curated life. Even now, the thought of her watching me as I drank that juice, the faint twitch of satisfaction in her smile… it made my chest tighten. I stepped into the building, shook off the umbrella, and walked briskly toward my office. Most of the staff I passed gave me polite nods or warm good mornings. But something felt… off. Like air thick with static before a storm. When I turned down the hall leading to my office, I slowed. The door was slightly ajar. Odd. I frowned. I never left it like that

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