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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Divorced by my Billionaire Ex, Now He Wants Me Back! : Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

257 Kabanata

101

101Alex.I drove home in the dark, my hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. For a long time, I didn’t turn on the radio. The city passed by in a blur of tail lights and fractured neon, and all I could see was Stella’s face—the way her eyes went wide when I told her what I really felt, what I really wanted. I hadn’t planned to say it. I never planned, not with her. Everything about her made me honest, sometimes against my better judgment.The memory looped in my mind, refusing to fade. The living room, dim and golden with lamplight. The curve of her shoulder as she leaned away, just barely, just enough for me to wonder if I’d ruined everything. The way her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid of what would come out. That heartbeat of hope that rose in her and in me, tangled and nervous, as if we were both kids again.The words felt raw on my tongue, even now: I can’t stop thinking about that night. Not just the kids, not just the shape of our old life, b

102

102.Stella.The sound of the front door clicking shut still echoed in the room when I heard Josh’s footsteps, fast and heavy, like he was bracing for battle. He didn’t wait until Alex’s car had pulled away, didn’t give me the mercy of a few minutes to steady myself. He was there in the doorway, jaw clenched, brown eyes narrowed with the same stubbornness that used to drive me mad when we were kids. Only now, I was the one caught in the crosshairs.I didn’t bother sitting up. The cushions on the couch were still warm from where Alex and I had sat, my heart still thundering in my chest, lips tingling from the taste of his mouth. I curled my legs under me, gathering the blanket tighter, as if it could protect me from what was coming.Josh tossed his keys onto the coffee table with a clatter, not even looking at me at first. He pulled off his jacket, slinging it over the back of the chair. Only then did he face me fully, arms folded, his whole posture a wall.“You want to tell me what th

103

103Alex.Sophie’s message landed before breakfast, a digital taunt waiting at the top of my screen:She’s not worth it.No greeting, no context. Just that. The words hung there, bitter as black coffee. For a second, I just stared, feeling the old reflex to reply—something sharp, something that would shut her up. But I didn’t want a fight, not today. I deleted the message, threw my phone on the table, and tried to shake off the chill that crept up the back of my neck.Sophie didn’t send warnings unless she was on the hunt. Her version of “protection” was always just a veiled threat, a reminder that she had eyes everywhere and secrets for sale. For a few seconds, I let myself imagine all the things she could be plotting, but I forced the thoughts away. I’d promised myself not to let her get inside my head—not when I was this close to having a real chance with Stella and the twins. I couldn’t let old ghosts control the next step.I spent the rest of the morning in restless motion. Email

104

104StellaSaturdays have a certain rhythm in our house—lazy, messy, noisy, shaped by the twins’ moods and whatever I can find in the fridge. I woke that morning with the memory of Alex’s words echoing in my head, the night’s been in my head all week, and found myself both restless and eager, nervous in ways I hadn’t felt in years. I made pancakes. I brushed Emma’s hair into neat little puffs. I checked my phone a dozen times, each notification sending my heart skittering.It was early afternoon by the time we finally made it out the door for ice cream. The sun was warm, the air soft, and the kids chattered the entire drive, still glowing from the museum. I kept glancing in the rearview, half to check for seatbelts, half because I just liked seeing them together—Emma tracing a dinosaur sticker onto her jeans, Eli telling Alex about the “secret trapdoor” at the playground. Alex listened, his face relaxed in a way I rarely saw. It made me ache a little, how easily he fit into this world

105

105Alex.I pulled her in, hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into her skin. She was soft and hot beneath my palms, the curve of her waist fitting perfectly into my hands, the scent of her—clean, warm, unmistakably Stella—making my head spin. She bit my lower lip, dragged her nails down my back, tugged me hard against her.I walked her backwards, her laughter low and wicked against my mouth, until her knees hit the edge of the couch. She pulled me down with her, legs parting, hooking around my hips. My hand slid beneath her shirt—her skin was fever-hot, her nipples already hard. I cupped her breast, rolling my thumb over the peak until she gasped, arching into my touch. Her hands found my belt, yanking it open, her fingers clumsy with urgency.“Off,” she said, and I obeyed.I stripped quickly, shucking my clothes in a pile on the floor. She did the same, her shirt joining mine in a tangle. For a moment, I just looked at her—naked, skin flushed, eyes glittering with something dan

106

106Stella.I woke to sunlight, gentle and golden on the quilt, but my first sensation was a pang—Alex was gone. Just an empty pillow and the faint scent of him in the sheets. It would have been easy to lie there and pretend nothing had changed, to let the afterglow of last night blur reality, but my mind was already racing, cataloguing all the ways this could fall apart. Old habits die hard.Downstairs, the house was still and peaceful. I made coffee, set out bowls for cereal, checked my phone while I waited for the kettle. There, nestled between a spam email and a school newsletter, was a new message. No subject, just a single image attached.I opened it, and the world tilted beneath me.It was a photo of me and Alex, clear as day, snapped through the living room window. The timestamp was last night. We were close—maybe laughing, maybe about to kiss. My breath caught, heart pounding in my chest. I looked up at the window instinctively, almost expecting to see someone staring back.F

107

107Alex.The afternoon sun hit the playground in fractured gold, lighting up a mess of shrieking kids, forgotten sweaters, and crumpled drawings. I was early for the pickup, pacing just beyond the line of minivans, checking my phone every thirty seconds even though I already knew nothing new would come through. I kept seeing the image—me, walking away from Stella’s house in the low light, face turned down, posture unmistakable. The fact that it was anonymous only made it worse. No one sent threats in daylight.The photo had landed in my inbox before dawn, a punch to the gut, nothing but the image itself and the chill that came with it. I hadn’t slept much. I’d stared at the ceiling for hours, listening to city traffic, fighting the urge to call Stella, fighting the urge to drive back over and see with my own eyes that she was safe. When the sun finally came up, I put on my best version of “in control”—pressed shirt, fresh shave, jaw set tight.Now, the twins came flying toward me acr

108

108Alex.I hesitated just long enough for Stella to look at me, a dozen questions in her eyes. I saw the hope there, but also worry, and underneath it all, there was trust. It was tentative, but real nonetheless. I gave a crooked smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”Eli whooped. Emma grabbed my hand and started dragging me toward the living room before I could even look at Stella again. She lingered behind us for a moment, her face hidden, and I wondered if she was fighting tears, or just trying to catch her breath.The night became a blur of blankets, laughter, and the twins’ relentless negotiations over which movie to watch. Emma wanted the animated fairy tale she always picked. Eli lobbied hard for dinosaurs, then caved when Emma pouted. I sank into the couch, sandwiched between them, letting myself forget about Sophie, about threats, about everything but the simple comfort of holding my children close.Stella joined us with a bowl of popcorn and that small, lopsided smile that al

109

109Stella.After Alex left, I moved through the house on autopilot, every sense straining for sound. The twins were finally asleep; Eli had drooled across his pillow, Emma’s stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm, the way she always did when she needed to feel safe. I stood in their doorway for a long time, just listening to the hush of their breaths, letting my heartbeat slow. When I pulled the door shut, I heard the faintest catch in the latch, and it made me jump.I hated that… how I jumped at nothing now. How Sophie had managed, with just a few messages and a door left open, to turn my own home into something that felt slightly off-balance, as if the walls themselves were keeping secrets.Downstairs, I circled the living room, straightening the cushions and folding the throw blanket Alex had used. He’d tried to act like the couch was comfortable, but I’d seen him shifting around, too tall for the short back, feet dangling off the end. I wondered, for a moment, if he’d even slept, or

110

110Alex.A call came at 4:43 a.m. My phone was under my pillow; I woke so fast my heart stuttered in my chest. Stella’s name glowed on the screen, and for a split second I was sixteen again, sneaking out of my parents’ house to meet her behind the old bandstand. But there was a thin edge in her voice—breathless, shaken—that cut through the years in an instant.“Alex?” she whispered, barely above a breath. “There was someone outside my window. I heard footsteps, I—can you come?”That was all it took. I was out of bed and shoving on yesterday’s jeans, keys in my pocket before she finished her sentence. I didn’t bother to answer, just said, “I’m on my way,” and hung up so she wouldn’t hear the fear in my voice.The drive felt endless. The streets were still empty, city lights painting the puddles silver as I sped across town. I tried to keep my mind blank, to push away images of Stella standing alone at the window, of the twins huddled in their beds, of all the things I’d failed to prot

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