All Chapters of Divorce and Regret: Chasing My Famous Lawyer Ex-Wife: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Brandon’s POVI woke up with the strangest sense of calm—and the most inconvenient ache in my chest.The date replayed itself before I even opened my eyes. The shopping, the paint, the laughter, the billiards game… The way the night seemed to stretch without either of us trying to hold onto it. How we’d walked to the parking lot together, hands full, steps slow, neither of us quite ready to say goodbye.I remembered standing there under the mall lights, the space between us charged and obvious. I’d wanted to kiss her. God, I’d wanted to. The thought had sat right there on my tongue.But I hesitated.And Natalie—graceful, unreadable Natalie—had just smiled, soft and knowing, and said goodbye like she understood exactly what I was doing. Or not doing.This Sunday morning, I didn’t have anywhere to be. I was tempted to visit her at her home, but that would be too soon, right? It might scare her off. I didn’t plan to go to the lakehouse, though. But somehow, I just… found myself turning

Brandon’s POVNathan does not belong anywhere in York International. And now he’s in my boardroom. That was my first thought when I walked in and saw him already seated at the table, arms crossed with a smug expression on his face. He looked as if he owned the place. Ugh. Why did I agree to this? Nathan and I had never gotten along. We’ve never even liked each other. But Natalie had asked, a voice in my head reminded me. Yes, I couldn’t say no. She had a point, after all. “If we’re serious about containing this,” she’d said earlier, calm but firm, “then Nathan needs to be present. Graveswell has pieces we don’t.”I hadn’t argued—but I hadn’t liked it either.Nathan glanced up as I took my seat, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth like he knew exactly what he was provoking.“Let’s get this over with,” he said.I ignored the comment and nodded to Elena. “Start.”Elena tapped her tablet, the room settling into a tense, expectant quiet as the screen at the far end of the boardroom li

Emma’s POVBy the time I reached the café that morning, I had already checked the door twice.Ridiculous, I told myself. He wasn’t going to be there again.And yet—some part of me still half-expected to see Lucas standing outside, hands shoved into his pockets, wearing that look like he’d rehearsed three different versions of a sentence and hated all of them.He wasn’t there.I smiled anyway.My phone buzzed as I ordered my coffee.Lucas: Good morning. I promise not to ambush your breakfast today. Progress, right?I shook my head, grinning despite myself.Me: Very proud of you. Baby steps.The messages had been like that for days now. Sweet. Stupid. Very Lucas. No pressure. No grand follow-ups about his proposed travel itinerary. Just jokes about his terrible sleep schedule, a photo of a crooked croissant he claimed was “art,” and the occasional line that caught me off guard with how sincere it was.By the time I walked into my office, coffee in hand, I was still smiling.That smil

Carmilla’s POV“You told him I’m gay?!”I didn’t even look up from the coffee machine. “Well, you are.”Jason’s reflection froze in the stainless steel. “I’m bisexual.”I shrugged, finally turning toward him. “Same banana.”He groaned. “That is not how fruit metaphors work.”“Relax,” I said, blowing on my coffee. “If anything, I did you a favor. Mystery is overrated.”He rolled his eyes, then leaned back against the counter, watching me too closely for comfort. The joking drained from his face in a way that told me he was about to ask the thing he’d been circling all morning.“So,” he said carefully. “What did Nathan say?”I stiffened—just a fraction.“Nothing,” I replied.Jason blinked. “Nothing nothing?”“Nothing,” I repeated, irritation slipping past my guard. “And that’s what frustrates me. He hasn’t talked to me much since—” I paused, then exhaled. “Well. Except earlier. When he went on a whole rant about Brandon York and the Vivian situation.”Jason tilted his head. “Ah. So he t

Natalie’s POVI was still shaking when we stepped a few feet away from the boutique—far enough that the manager’s accusing voice couldn’t reach us anymore, but not far enough for my nerves to settle.“I’ll pay you back,” I said immediately, too fast, too loud. “Dylan, you didn’t have to do that. I don’t even know if I’m keeping the dress. I don’t even know if it’s me.”He didn’t answer right away.That made me look up.He was watching me in a way that had nothing to do with receipts or credit cards or the chaos we’d just left behind. It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t teasing. It was focused—almost careful—like he was cataloging something he hadn’t meant to notice and now couldn’t unsee.I shifted slightly, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt standing there in that dress, under his attention.His gaze moved slowly, deliberately—like he was seeing the dress for the first time. Like he was seeing me.“You look beautiful,” he said quietly. Then, after a beat, softer still, “It’s perfect.”Som