Todos los capítulos de Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore : Capítulo 161 - Capítulo 170

The balcony was small but warm, touched by late morning light. Diana sat on the chair with her knees pulled up, resting her chin on them. The air smelled faintly of brewed coffee drifting from somewhere below. Mikhail sat beside her, his long legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. Their silence was the peaceful kind. The kind that did not feel like something unspoken was lurking underneath. It simply existed the way morning existed. Calm and present.She ran her fingers along the railing. It was warm from the sun. The view overlooked the courtyard and the hotel driveway. People walked in and out, dressed in clothes that looked soft and expensive, carrying luggage that probably cost more than the room they were staying in.Her eyes caught movement on the far side. A group was gathering near a long, sleek vehicle. Not just a camping bus. It looked like a luxury expedition truck, the type with tinted windows and chrome finishes. The kind of machine built for wealthy people

Got you, Precious.Here is the continuation, your tone, your rhythm, no em dashes, no one-liners, soft but charged, slow burn threaded tight. I’m keeping it exactly where you left it.---The woods looked curated. Too perfect. Too manicured. As if rich people had bought a forest and ironed it smooth. The group climbed off the van in clusters, laughter bouncing between the tall trimmed trees. Diana stepped out behind Mikhail and inhaled the crisp air that somehow smelled expensive.“Does this remind you of anything?” Mikhail asked, voice low.She glanced at him. He looked bored in that quiet, dangerous way of his, eyes scanning the trees as if expecting something to jump out so he could kill it.She laughed softly. “It reminds me of a field trip I once took in primary school. But everything here looks too fancy to be nostalgic.”He hummed and let her tug him into the wooden cottage. Even the wood smelled rich. Like it had been polished with money. The inside was warm, golden, spacious.

They followed the guide through the small clearing as he explained tent setup. A few of the seasoned campers were already struggling with their poles and ropes, muttering under their breaths while pretending they knew what they were doing.Diana tried not to laugh when one man nearly hit himself in the face with a folded canvas.Mikhail stood behind her with his arms crossed, unimpressed in a way that was both cruel and endearing. “I thought you people have been coming here for years. How come you are suffering.”It was the first time he spoke to anyone in the group since they arrived. A few heads turned. One of the men straightened from his crouched position as if he wanted to challenge him, took one step, looked at Mikhail’s size, and reconsidered without a word. He leaned toward another man and whispered something that made both of them shake their heads.Diana nudged Mikhail lightly with her elbow. “You are not helping.”“I am observing,” he replied softly. “There is a difference.

DIANA’S POVThe night feels heavier than it should. The sky outside has gone quiet and the campers have scattered into their tents or back to the cottage to gossip or drink or pretend they are not bored. Inside her tent, Diana lies curled under the thin blanket, the scent of the forest clinging to the fabric. Her eyes drift closed and open and close again, dancing on that thin line between exhaustion and sleep. She can still feel the warmth of the fire on her skin. She can still feel the lingering tension in her chest from everything Mikhail said earlier, everything he did not say, everything that sits between them like a second heartbeat.She is just about to slip into sleep when the zipper of her tent shifts.It is slow at first, a faint scrape of metal against metal. Her eyes pull open. The flap lifts. A tall shadow fills the frame, blocking whatever moonlight tried to enter.For half a breath, her heart jumps.Then the figure steps inside and she sees him.Mikhail.He has that fam

The sun had just begun to stretch across the camp, brushing the trees with gold and softening the edges of the wooden tables. Diana and Mikhail walked toward the breakfast area, the smell of eggs, bacon, and brewed coffee mixing with the crisp morning air. The group was already there, chatting, laughter spilling out in low tones that reminded Diana of something she’d heard once and couldn’t place.They chose a corner, away from the main cluster, where the morning light touched the table just enough to warm their shoulders. Mikhail’s hand brushed hers as he pulled out the chair. The gesture was small, quiet, but it made her heart tick in a rhythm she was only just learning.Diana slid into the seat beside him, folding her hands on her lap, feeling the residual heat of his fingers against hers. He didn’t speak, only angled his body slightly toward her, protective, attentive, a shadow that pressed against the edges of the sunlight.She tried to focus on the food: eggs, toast, fruit—simpl