All Chapters of Dear Ex Husband, You Lose!: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Thomas sunk into his chair the next morning as he stared at the laptop screen in front of him. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Today was an important day filled with more meetings than what he cared to count. He wished that he could have stayed in bed and forgotten all about how his life had become one big nightmare. He still had no idea where Delia was or any word from her. He sat forward and wondered if she would ever come back to him. And the baby? What about his child? Would he ever see the child? He had so many unanswered questions and the guilt of his actions kept him weighed down as if he were submerged in water. “Excuse me?” A knock on the door startled Thomas as he looked up and saw one of his colleagues standing there with a concerned look on her face. She was holding a clipboard to her chest and dressed in a short dress that showed off her curvy figure. "Oh, Sarah," Thomas said, trying to inject some normalcy into his voice, though it came out ro

The meeting room was already buzzing with hushed conversations as Thomas pushed open the door. The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and nervous energy. He pasted on a neutral expression, a pale imitation of his usual professional demeanor, and took his seat at the head of the long, polished table. He nodded a greeting to his colleagues, a few of whom offered sympathetic glances, their eyes lingering on his face for a fraction too long. He avoided meeting their gaze, focusing instead on the laptop he opened, the screen a blank canvas waiting to be filled with numbers and charts that felt utterly meaningless. The meeting began, a relentless tide of data and analysis. Voices droned on, discussing percentages, growth margins, and market fluctuations. Thomas listened, or rather, he heard the sounds, the words registering as a distant hum while his mind continued its relentless loop of worry and regret. He answered questions when prompted, his responses clipped and precise

The ride downtown in her father’s sleek, black car was a blur of towering buildings and bustling streets. Delia watched the city pass by, a silent observer in a world that felt both familiar and utterly foreign. The weight of the morning’s conversation, the reality of the impending divorce, and the prospect of stepping into this new role settled in her stomach like a stone. Martin, sensing her quiet contemplation, didn’t push for conversation. He occasionally pointed out a landmark or offered a brief comment about the traffic, but mostly he allowed her the space to process. It was a quiet support that Delia deeply appreciated. They arrived at a modern, glass-fronted building that seemed to pierce the sky. The company logo, a stylized, elegant symbol, was etched discreetly on the entrance. Stepping inside felt like entering a different world. The lobby was spacious and minimalist, filled with natural light and the hushed sounds of efficient activity. People moved with a sense of

Thomas stood frozen in the center of his office, the scent of Samantha's perfume still lingering in the air like a toxic cloud. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum against the sudden stillness. He looked at the closed door, then at the photo of Delia on his desk, her smiling face a stark contrast to the chilling reality of the past few minutes. Samantha. Pregnant. With his child. The words echoed in his mind, a cruel twist of fate in an already nightmarish situation. He ran a hand through his hair, the movement jerky and desperate. How could this be happening? How could he have been so blind, so utterly reckless? No wonder Delia had left him. He had thought if he had left Samantha and their messy affair behind him then his wife would come back to him. He had convinced himself that Delia was his future, the woman who had brought stability and happiness back into his life. But the past, it seemed, had a long memory, and Samantha was a relentless reminder of his

Thomas took a deep breath as he stepped into the conference room, trying to steady his pounding nerves. The sleek, modern space was filled with his team—colleagues and assistants, all waiting for him to begin the presentation on their latest project. He could feel the weight of their expectant gazes as he moved to the front of the room, laptop in hand. Today was supposed to be about ideas, strategies, and budgets. Instead, what was about to unfold would change everything. He hesitated for a moment, then clicked the remote. The first slide appeared—a simple title slide. But with a flick of his finger, the next slide revealed a shocking collage. The room fell silent. Images flashed across the screen—photos of Thomas and Samantha together in candid moments: sharing a passionate kiss in a dimly lit restaurant, walking arm-in-arm along a rainy city street, her hand resting on his shoulder, their faces close. Interspersed among these were ultrasound scans—blurry, but unmistakably r