Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rejected by my Husband: Kabanata 111 - Kabanata 120

KARLINE POINT OF VIEWI was almost done with the file I’d been rewriting for the third time. My eyes burned, my shoulders ached, and my brain felt like it had been wrung dry. But at least focusing on work helped me forget everything else for a moment.Or… it was helping.Until the door opened.I didn’t bother looking up at first. “Yes, leave the documents on the___”A soft shuffle of footsteps cut me off.And then something floral. Sweet. Heavy. Too familiar.I slowly lifted my gaze.A delivery man stood in my doorway, holding a massive bouquet of red roses.No, not a bouquet.A forest.Too extravagant, too dramatic.“Ms. Russo?” he asked politely.I stared at him, then at the flowers, then at the little white card nestled between the red petals like a smug secret.“…yes,” I said flatly.He placed them on my desk. “These are for you. Card included. Have a good day.”The door clicked shut behind him.Silence.Thick.Suffocating.Unbelievable.I reached for the card with two fingers lik

KARLINE POINT OF VIEW END OF THE WORKDAY I packed the last of the files into the tray, straightened the pens, shut the laptop, and exhaled. Finally. Freedom. I grabbed my bag and turned toward the door.. And froze. Reid Carter walked in like he owned the air I breathed. Great. Just great. I tried to move past him, but he stepped right into my path. Before I could react, his hands slammed against the wall on either side of me, caging me in. My back hit the cold wall. He leaned in, breath uneven. “Let me go,” I hissed, jaw locked. “Karline…” His voice was low, desperate. “I’m sorry. About my mom. About what she did this morning..” I actually laughed. A sharp, humorless bark of disbelief. “Wow,” I said. “You finally noticed. Took you only four years.” His brows furrowed. “That’s not what..” “How funny,” I cut in, “that you suddenly have a problem with her behavior when it’s aimed at you. But four years ago? When she called me a gold-digger… homewrecker…

KARLINE POVNext Morning Ethan’s feet were already kicking the back of my seat before we even left our street.He wasn’t doing it on purpose.He was just..excited.Really, truly excited.It was the first time in weeks he was allowed to go outside without a nurse hovering beside him. The doctor had given a very cautious “yes” this morning, and Ethan had practically exploded with happiness.Behind me, he sat in his booster seat with his nana beside him, my mom, my rock, who was already exhausted from trying to calm him down.“Mammaaaaaa!” Ethan squealed, almost bouncing. “Mammaaaaaa! Chiisstmaaaasss is comingggg!”I choked on a laugh.He had been saying that since dawn.I wasn’t sure if he meant Christmas or just excitement in general.“Baby,” I smiled into the rear-view mirror, “it’s not even December yet.”“But it’s coming!” he insisted, shaking his tiny fists in the air like he was cheering for Santa.Mom snorted. “It’s Christmas, tesoro. Not…” she waved her hand at him dramaticall

Third Person Point of ViewThey stopped near the edge of the mall corridor, away from the crowd, away from the noise. The air between them felt tight, heavy, like it could snap if either of them raised their voice even a little.Karline turned to him abruptly.“What do you want, Reid?” she whispered harshly. “Just tell me. What do you actually want from us?”Reid stood there, the oversized shopping bag clutched in his hand. It looked ridiculous against his tailored coat, bright and childish, filled with things meant for a life he had never been part of.“I just want to give my son something,” he said quietly. “The gun he wanted. The things he likes. I want to do something… anything.”Karline laughed under her breath. It wasn’t amused. It wasn’t light.“Something?” she repeated. “That’s what you think this is? Something?”She folded her arms tightly across her chest.“Fine tell me, where were you for four years, Reid?” Her voice shook, but she didn’t raise it. “Where were you when he c

THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEWMorning arrived quietly.Not the rushed, sterile kind that lived inside hospital corridors, but a soft, domestic morning that crept in through half-open curtains and settled gently inside the apartment. Sunlight spilled across the kitchen tiles, warming the edges of the wooden table, touching everything like a promise.Ethan sat on the chair with his legs swinging freely, feet never quite touching the floor. He wore his favorite soft pajamas, the ones with faded cartoon dinosaurs printed across the fabric. His hair was still a mess from sleep, sticking up at the back no matter how many times it was smoothed down.In front of him was a bowl of cereal, floating happily in warm milk.He wasn’t feeding himself.Small fingers were lazy this morning.Instead, his grandmother sat close beside him, spoon in hand, scooping gently and lifting it toward his mouth with patient care.“Open,” she said softly.Ethan opened his mouth obediently, eyes half-lidded as the spoo