Semua Bab Divorce and Regret: Chasing My Famous Lawyer Ex-Wife: Bab 171 - Bab 180

Carmilla’s POVMy eyes slowly opened, and I was instantly blinded by the sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a few disoriented seconds, I didn’t move. The bed beneath me felt unfamiliar—too firm, the sheets tucked too neatly.Then warmth registered.Something heavy rested over my shoulders.I shifted slightly, and fabric slid against my skin.I froze.Nathan’s jacket.It was draped over me carefully, not tossed. A blanket covered me from the waist down, tucked in the way someone does when they intend not to wake you. My shoes were gone. My hair, usually a mess when I slept at a desk, had been brushed off my face.I sat up slowly, heart thudding.I hadn’t gone to bed last night.The last thing I remembered was the desk. The laptop. Numbers blurring together. My fingers hovering uselessly over the keys.I swallowed.He’d carried me here.The realization settled heavy and strange in my chest.I swung my legs off the bed and noticed the small side table. A paper bag sat there, ne

Natalie’s POVI was reorganizing a file that didn’t need reorganizing when the knock came.Not a polite knock. A familiar one.My fingers froze on the folder.“Come in,” I said, schooling my voice into calm.The door opened—and there he was. Brandon York. I gave a small, polite smile. One that you reserved for your boss when he drops by for a personal visit. “Hi,” I said. “Good morning.” Suddenly, everything that happened yesterday flooded my mind. That close encounter. He almost caught me. Almost found out that I was the same Natalie Harris he’d been wanting to talk to. The mysterious ex-wife. “Good morning, Natalie,” he greeted. “How are you today?”“I’m good, thank you.” In my mind, I was also recalling how he’d told me about his feelings last time. My heart began to pound harder. Is he planning to ask me out now? “You may have a seat,” I offered. “Oh, thanks,” he answered, sitting down in front of me and my desk. “You know, I was at Matthew’s bar last night and we ran into A

Emma’s POV“Emma—wait.”I was already halfway down the path when I heard him behind me, footsteps quick and uneven. Not the relaxed stride he usually had. This one was rushed. Breathless.I didn’t stop.“Emma, please.”That did it. Not the word—please—but the way he said it. Stripped of teasing. Stripped of confidence.I turned.Lucas stood a few feet away, hands on his hips. Sunglasses gone. Hair a mess. No smirk. No jokes.“I’m sorry,” he said immediately.I folded my arms. “I’m serious,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have joked. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”“Then why did you?” I shot back.He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face. “Because I didn’t know what else to do.”I scoffed. “That’s not an excuse.”“I know,” he said. “But it’s the truth.”I shook my head, stepping back. “You don’t get to turn something that mattered—to me—into a punchline.”His jaw tightened. “It wasn’t a punchline.”“It sounded like one.”He took a step closer, then

Natalie’s POVThe lakehouse was quiet and beautiful. Not empty—never that—but still in a way that felt intentional, like the space itself knew how to hold its breath. Sunlight filtered in through the wide windows, glinting off the water beyond, the lake stretching out calm and patient as if it had been waiting.I stood just inside the door for a moment, letting the stillness sink into me.The first time I’d been here surfaced easily. Not long ago, I’d come with Brandon and met up with Nathan and Carmilla. It had been awkward and tense, definitely. But the encounter inside this house wasn’t what stuck with me for a long time. It was when Brandon and I ended up having lunch together in a lovely rustic place by the lake. Nothing fancy, but still quite romantic. That was the first time we’d talked about our past, reminisced childhood memories, really shared ourselves and laughed together. I remembered thinking how easy it was to talk to him when we weren’t surrounded by expectations. H

Emma’s POVThe executive appreciation night unfolded like something lifted from a travel magazine—soft amber lights strung between palms, the ocean breathing quietly beyond the terrace, glasses clinking, laughter carried on warm air. Everyone looked… lighter. Sun-kissed. Effortlessly polished in linen, silk, and easy smiles.I told myself to blend in. To be professional. To not scan the crowd for one particular man.And then I felt it.I didn’t have to look to know he’d seen me—but when I did, his reaction still caught me off guard. It was brief. A mix of surprise and admiration. The way his gaze lingered half a beat longer than necessary. The way his shoulders squared, like he was grounding himself.For a second, neither of us moved.Then someone spoke to him, the moment broke, and I exhaled slowly—annoyed with my own racing heart.Get it together.Dinner passed in a blur of polite conversation and practiced smiles. I was halfway through nodding at something a regional director was