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All Chapters of The Ex-wife He Regrets Losing!: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

177 Chapters

11!

MABEL I made it to the street before the first sob broke free. The doorman asked if I needed a cab, but I shook my head and walked. I didn't know where I was going. I just needed to move, to put distance between myself and that penthouse before I completely fell apart. You're pretty. Are you a princess? His voice replayed in my head, over and over. Sweet and innocent and completely unaware that he'd just shattered what was left of my carefully constructed armor. I'd touched him. Just for a second, just his hair, but I'd touched my son. After five years of nothing but photographs and fantasies and desperate prayers, I'd finally touched him. My legs carried me into Central Park. I found a bench far from the main paths and collapsed onto it, pressing my hands over my mouth to muffle the sounds escaping my throat. He was real. God, he was so real. The way he smiled. The gap between his front teeth. The excited way he talked about Spider-Man, words tumbling over each other. The tr

12!

MABEL The address led me to a neighborhood I didn't recognize. The cab driver looked uncomfortable as we pulled deeper into Queens, past bodegas with barred windows and apartment buildings with peeling paint. This wasn't the New York I'd known during my marriage to Ethan. This was the New York I'd lived in after the divorce, when I was sleeping in cheap motels and counting pennies. "You sure this is the right place?" the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. I checked my phone. "Yes. That building right there." He pulled up to a tired-looking four-story walk-up. Graffiti decorated the entrance, and half the mailboxes hung open, broken. I paid the fare and stepped out onto the cracked sidewalk. For a moment, I just stood there, staring up at the building. What was I doing here? I had my own crisis to deal with. My own child to fight for. But Lily's face, a face I'd only seen in old Christmas photos—kept appearing in my mind. A Twelve years old. Sick. Scared. I cl

13!

MABEL Bella went to get her laptop, leaving me alone in the living room. I walked over to the half-open bedroom door and peered inside. Two twin beds occupied most of the small space. One was empty, neatly made with a faded purple comforter. The other held a sleeping girl. Lily. She was smaller than I expected for twelve years old, her face pale against the pillow. Dark hair, the same shade as mine and Bella's, spread across the pillowcase. An insulin pump was clipped to her pajama pants, the tube disappearing under her shirt. Even in sleep, she looked fragile. I started to turn away, but a soft voice stopped me. "You're her, aren't you?" My heart jumped. Lily's eyes were open now, watching me with quiet intensity. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to wake you." "You didn't. I wasn't really sleeping." She sat up slowly, wincing slightly. "You're Mabel. Our sister." The way she said it, our sister, made something twist in my chest. "Half-sister," I corrected ge

14!

MABEL Two days later, Andrew called again. I was in the middle of a fitting session with Vanessa, helping her choose between two gowns for the charity gala, when my phone started buzzing insistently. "I'm so sorry," I told Vanessa, glancing at the screen. "It's my father. He never calls unless…" "Take it," Vanessa said graciously. "Family comes first." I stepped into the hallway, my stomach already knotting with dread. Andrew didn't call to chat. He called when things were falling apart. "Dad?" "Mabel." His voice was slurred, the words running together. "I need... I need to see you." My heart sank. "Are you drunk?" "Just a little." A pause. "Maybe more than a little." "Where are you?" "Home. My place. Not the girls' place. My place." He rattled off an address I didn't recognize. "Please come. I need... I need to explain." "Explain what?" But he'd already hung up. I stood there in Vanessa's hallway, torn between frustration and concern. I should ignore this. L

15!

MABEL I was scrubbing Andrew's kitchen counter when my phone rang. Bella's name flashed on the screen. "Hello?" "Where's Dad?" Her voice was tight with barely controlled panic. "He was supposed to pick up Lily's prescription two hours ago. He's not answering his phone." I straightened, wiping my hands on a dishrag. "He's on his way to rehab." Silence. Then: "What?" "I found him drunk. Called him a car. He should be checking in at Meadowbrook Recovery Center right now." More silence. I could hear Bella breathing, processing. "You... you actually got him to go?" "I didn't give him a choice." A sound that might have been a laugh or a sob came through the phone. "How? I've been trying for months. He always refuses." "I threatened to bring Lily to see him like that. He couldn't handle the thought of her seeing him that way." "Shit," Bella whispered. "That's... that's actually smart." "Where are you?" I asked. "I'll bring the prescription to you." "You don't have to…." "Bell

16!

MABEL Monday morning arrived with the kind of crisp autumn air that made New York feel alive. I stood in front of my hotel room mirror, adjusting my blazer for the third time. Today, Bella started working for me. Today, I had another fitting session with Vanessa. And in four days, I'd be attending Liam's fifth birthday party. My hands shook as I applied lipstick. So much was happening at once. So many threads I was trying to weave together without them tangling into a disaster. My phone buzzed. A text from Bella; Outside the hotel. Ready when you are. Nervous as hell. I smiled despite my own anxiety. At least I wasn't the only one. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. Bella waited in the lobby, looking uncomfortable in clothes that were clearly new, dark jeans, a crisp white blouse, a blazer that still had the tags tucked inside the sleeve. Her hair was pulled back neatly, and she'd attempted makeup, though it was minimal. "You look professional," I said, approaching h

17!

MABEL The fitting with Vanessa went smoothly. Too smoothly. Bella proved herself capable, taking notes on measurements and fabric preferences without being asked. Vanessa seemed impressed by her professionalism, commenting that I'd "found a good one." If only she knew. But the ease of it all made me nervous. In my experience, when things went well, disaster was usually waiting around the corner. After the fitting, Bella and I returned to the office to organize the garments we'd pulled for Liam's birthday party. I was cataloging accessories when Bella's phone rang, her old phone, not the company one. She checked the screen and her face went pale. "I need to take this," she said, stepping into the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched her pace, her body language growing increasingly agitated. She pressed one hand to her forehead, her mouth moving rapidly. When she came back inside, her eyes were red. "What happened?" I asked. "That was the landlord." Her voice shook.

18!

MABEL The call came from Meadowbrook Recovery Center at eleven PM on Wednesday night. I was in bed, reviewing the final details for Liam's party, when my phone lit up with an unknown number. "Ms. James?" A woman's voice, calm but concerned. "This is Nurse Patterson from Meadowbrook. I'm calling about your father, Andrew James." My stomach dropped. "What happened? Is he okay?" "Physically, yes. But he's requesting to leave. Against medical advice." "He's only been there four days." "I'm aware. We've explained the risks of leaving early, but he's insistent. Since you're listed as his emergency contact and financial guarantor, I wanted to inform you before we process his discharge." I threw off the covers, already reaching for my clothes. "Don't let him leave. I'm coming." "Ms. James, we can't hold him against his will…" "Stall him. Please. Tell him... tell him his paperwork isn't ready. Tell him anything. Just give me forty-five minutes." The nurse hesitated. "I'll do what I c

19!

MABEL I left Meadowbrook at one AM with a receipt for another month of treatment and the facility director's assurance that Andrew would be monitored more closely. "First-week crises are common," Dr. Morrison had told me in her office while Andrew was escorted back to his room. "The initial detox is physical. But around day four or five, the emotional reality sets in. That's when most people bolt." "Will he make it?" I'd asked. She'd given me the kind of smile doctors reserve for family members who want false hope. "That depends entirely on him." Now, sitting in the back of the car heading back to Manhattan, I texted Bella; I need to talk. Tomorrow morning. It's about Andrew. Her response came immediately; Is he okay? He's fine. Just meet me at the office at 8 AM. Okay. I stared out the window at the dark highway, exhaustion settling into my bones. Between Liam, Vanessa, Bella, Lily, and now Andrew's crisis, I was juggling too many fragile things at once. Something was g

20!

MABEL Friday afternoon, Bella showed up at the office with two suitcases and a backpack. "What's this?" I asked, looking up from the garment rack I'd been organizing. "Lily and I got evicted." I dropped the dress I was holding. "What?" "The landlord showed up this morning. Said there were complaints about noise, that we violated the lease somehow." Bella's voice was flat, emotionless. "He gave us twenty-four hours to get out." "That's illegal. You have rights…" "In theory, sure. But fighting it means lawyers and court dates and money we don't have." She set down the suitcases. "Besides, the apartment was a shithole anyway. We're better off." "Where's Lily now?" "At her friend Makayla's house. I didn't want her to see me packing up our lives into garbage bags again." Bella's tough facade cracked slightly. "This is the third time we've been evicted in three years." My chest ached for her. For both of them. "I upgraded my hotel suite this morning," I said, making a split-se

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