Divorce and Regret: Chasing My Famous Lawyer Ex-Wife のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 181 - チャプター 190

Nathan’s POVMy heart jumped when I saw Jason standing too close to Carmilla near the coffee station—too relaxed, too familiar. His fingers lifted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She leaned in slightly, murmured something I couldn’t hear.Jason smiled.Carmilla did too.It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. That was the problem.Something hot and vicious snapped inside me.“Is there a reason you’re both standing around like this is a social club?”The words were out before I could stop them—sharp, clipped, ugly.They both turned to look at me.Jason blinked. Carmilla’s brows lifted just slightly.“I was just—” Jason started.“Save it,” I cut in. “This is an office. Keep things professional. I don’t need to have to remind you both all the time.”Silence followed.Then—of all things—Jason looked amused.Carmilla didn’t look embarrassed. She didn’t look guilty. She looked… entertained. Like I’d interrupted a private joke inst

Emma’s POVIf you squinted just right, The Lantern almost felt like a time machine.Low lights. Soft music in the background. A sticky wooden table scarred with initials and drink rings. Natalie across from me, legs tucked beneath her chair, swirling her glass like she was interrogating it. Dylan beside her, already halfway through his second beer, grinning like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.It felt dangerously close to college. Before the ton of responsibilities. Before titles. Before everything got… complicated.“So,” Natalie said, setting her glass down with purpose. “Spill it—what the hell happened in Maldives?”I nearly choked on my drink.“What?” I squeaked, far too high-pitched to be convincing.Dylan burst out laughing. “Oh yeah,” he said, pointing at me. “That face. I know that face.”“I don’t have a face,” I shot back, heat rushing straight to my cheeks. I looked away, because the moment I didn’t, Lucas flooded my mind—sun-warmed skin, salt air, the way his voice

Natalie’s POVThe kettle didn’t even die quietly. It gave one last pathetic wheeze, coughed out a cloud of steam, and promptly shorted the outlet.I stared at it for a long moment before muttering, “Drama queen.”Which was how I ended up at the mall on a weekday morning, hunting for a new kettle like a perfectly ordinary person with perfectly ordinary domestic problems. The normalcy of it was… soothing. After the past few weeks, I welcomed anything that didn’t require strategy, negotiations, or emotional restraint.I found myself lingering longer than necessary in the appliance store, comparing kettles I would absolutely overthink for the next ten minutes, before finally picking one that looked sturdy and unpretentious. Practical. Dependable. I approved.On my way out, I passed a high-end gift store and slowed, suddenly remembering Arthur’s upcoming wedding. I stepped inside and checked the nearest items on display. A sales associate approached with a knowing smile. “Shopping for so

Natalie’s POVI said yes.Not smoothly. Not thoughtfully. Just—yes, tumbling out of me before my brain could catch up and overanalyze it to death.Brandon froze for half a second, like he hadn’t expected the universe to cooperate. Then his smile broke wide and unguarded, the kind that made his eyes crinkle, the kind that didn’t belong to the composed CEO I knew at work.He also turned visibly red.Like—actually red. Ears, neck, all of it.“Okay,” he said, nodding once. “Great. That’s—great.”I laughed, because he looked both triumphant and mildly traumatized, standing there with a bruised ego and a shoe that had almost betrayed him completely.We started walking without any real direction, the mall stretching out around us in polished floors and passing conversations. After a few steps, he reached over and wordlessly took the kettle box from my arms.“You don’t have to—” I started.“I insist,” he said. I snorted. “The old one died heroically. In a cloud of steam. So I got a new one t

Brandon’s POVWe stepped out of the shop with the gift bags between us, the soft rustle of tissue paper sounding far louder than it should have.That was supposed to be it.I should suggest something else, I told myself. Anything. Coffee. A walk. Another store. Because if this ended here—if the highlight of our time together was shopping for someone else’s wedding—that would be… pathetic.Natalie shifted the bag in her hand and looked at me. “So,” she said lightly, “where do we go now?”My heart kicked hard against my ribs.She wants to stay, I thought. She’s asking.“I—” I started, then stopped, scanning the mall like answers might be posted on the walls.And that was when I saw it.A new storefront we definitely hadn’t passed earlier—bright signage, splashes of color across the glass, people inside zipped into plastic coveralls, laughing as paint flew in every direction.Natalie followed my gaze. Slowed.She studied it for a long moment, expression thoughtful rather than impulsive.