All Chapters of Marrying My Ex for Revenge: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Tommy's dinosaur crashes into my water glass."Rawr!" He makes explosion sounds with his mouth, spaghetti sauce on his chin. "The T-Rex wins again, Daddy!""The T-Rex always wins." I catch the glass before it topples. "But maybe he should conquer somewhere that isn't the dinner table."The glass is crystal—from the set Melissa's parents gave us for our wedding. Victor called it pretentious. Said real men drank from whatever was available.I use it every night."Marcus." Melissa's voice carries that tone—the one that means she's been watching me for the past ten minutes. "You're making plans.""I'm eating dinner with my family."

The coffee maker hisses in the pre-dawn quiet.Elena's still asleep on my couch. One arm draped across her stomach, the other tucked under her cheek. Hair spilling everywhere.My sweater—the one I gave her last night when she got cold—has ridden up slightly, exposing a strip of skin at her waist.I force my eyes away. Make coffee I don't need just to have something to do with my hands.The coffee grows cold in my hands. I should wake her. Should let her go home before this moment stretches into something neither of us is ready to name.But I'm selfish. Always have been when it comes to her.So I steal five more minutes of her trust before the world reminds us why this is complicated.6:15. She'll wake soon. Panic about Ava. Rush home. Probably want to leave as soon as she can. Unless I give her a reason to stay a little longer.I pour two cups. Carry them to the living room. Set hers on the side table where the

I'm in Daniel's kitchen wearing his Columbia hoodie, kettle boiling for tea I won't drink.Daniel appears in the doorway. Hair sticking up, squinting against the kitchen light. He crosses to me, reads over my shoulder.His arms come around me from behind. Chin on my head. "What do you want to do?""I don't know.""Liar." His voice rumbles through his chest into my back. "You knew what you wanted to do before you sent that text."I lean into him. "I want to forgive her.""But?""But I'm still furious."His arms tighten. "You don't owe her immediate forg

"The pasta's going to overcook," I whisper against his mouth."Let it.""You'll blame me later.""Worth it."The timer beeps. Shrill. Insistent.He groans. "I'm destroying that timer.""Don't blame the timer." I slide out of his arms with considerable effort. "Blame your poor planning.""My planning was excellent." He moves to the stove, rescuing the pasta before it turns to mush. "I got you barefoot in my kitchen. Wearing my shirt. Kissing me like you mean it.""I do mean it."He looks at me over his shoul

Adrian and I stand in the wreckage of my carefully constructed reality. Neither of us move. We just stand there while couples laugh at nearby tables and jazz plays."Four years." I whisper it to the candlelight. "I hated him."Adrian's hand finds mine. Fingers interlacing. "You didn't know.""That's not an excuse.""Neither is it blame." He pulls me closer. "Come on. Let's get you home."We leave the wine bar without dessert. Without finishing the conversation we came here to have. Without any of the easy intimacy that defined the past four hours.Outside, the November air bites cold. Adrian takes my hand and we walk. Neither of us speaks. Hi