All Chapters of His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Dear Readers, We’ve come to the end of Abbie and Cale’s steamy love story, and I truly hope you enjoyed every moment of their journey. Writing them has been a gift, they’ve become a part of my heart in ways I didn’t expect. Their love was never meant to be perfect. It was meant to be real. Forgiveness didn’t come easily or instantly, but it came honestly. For Abbie and Cale, love meant facing fear, insecurity, and past mistakes without turning away from each other. Even though their story has ended, their journey hasn’t. They are still healing, still standing side by side, still choosing one another and falling in love every day. Their love fractured, struggled, and found its way back—and that’s what I love most about them. Thank you for loving them with me And now… it’s time to continue Slade and Rachel’s story Just a little warning, this journey will come with its ups and downs. Hearts may ache, tempers may flare, and emotions will run high, but every twist is p

* SLADE’S POINT OF VIEW * I thought I would be ready for the call. I thought I had hardened my heart enough to handle Jacob’s death, but I was wrong. It hit me like a brutal, bone-deep blow, a raw, jagged ache that hollowed out my chest. We had an estranged, complicated relationship — years of silence and bitterness defining the space between father and son. But he had changed so much in those final months. He had asked for the children, asked for Rachel. When I finally brought them to him, he was kind — gentle, even. Seeing him embrace my family took me by surprise and began to bridge a gap I thought was permanent. After the news broke, I retreated to my study. I needed the silence to reckon with the ghosts of our past. Remembering the good times was somehow more painful than the bad, and I found myself grappling with a grief I hadn’t given myself permission to feel. When I finally went back to the bedroom, Rachel held me, her presence a silent, steady anchor in the sto

* SLADE’S POINT OF VIEW *It had been a week since Jacob was laid to rest, and the silence of the mansion had been replaced by the suffocating tension of legalities. The lawyer called us today for the official reading of the will. We sat in the grand living room — a place that once felt like a kingdom when I was a child, but now resembled a cold museum of missed opportunities. I remembered playing on these rugs, always looking over my shoulder for a father who was too busy building an empire to notice his son.Mr. Tennessee, the family attorney, stood and adjusted his glasses. He handed each of us a thick packet of documents, including one for Rachel, who sat stiffly beside me.We exchanged a quick, uncertain look.“You will each find a detailed breakdown of the properties and the percentages of the liquid assets you are entitled to,” Mr. Tennessee began. “Rachel, you and the children have been granted a significant percentage of several properties. Slade, your shares are listed unde

* SLADE’S POINT OF VIEW *“Boss… what do you think about the Hamptons project? Are we moving forward with the acquisition?” Rebecca asked from the front seat.I was still getting used to her presence; I missed having Cale as my P.A. He knew my moods, my unspoken cues, and exactly when to push or pull back.“Yes… go through with it, and make sure to BCC Rachel on every email,” I said, looking out the window.Simon pulled the car to a smooth stop in front of a secluded, high-end Italian restaurant. It was the kind of place tucked away behind ivy-covered walls, known more for its discretion than its menu.“Do you want me to come in with you?” Rebecca asked as Simon climbed out to open my door.“You know you’re not supposed to do that,” I said firmly.I stepped out of the car, adjusting my suit jacket, and walked into the quiet dimness of the restaurant.My eyes roamed the room until I spotted her. She was sitting at a corner table in the very back — private, shadowed, and perfect for a m

* RACHEL’S POINT OF VIEW *Abbie and I decided to duck into a cozy coffee shop nestled right next to the yoga center. She had been attending Postnatal Flow classes lately, determined to regain her strength and tone. Watching her move through the sun-drenched studio earlier, I thought she was being far too hard on herself; she looked incredible, with barely a trace of a post-pregnancy tummy, moving with a grace most people would crave.We took our seats near the window, the shop buzzing with that relaxed, lazy Saturday-morning energy.“So, how’s our little princess doing today?” I asked, taking a grateful sip of my latte.“She’s wonderful, actually,” Abbie chuckled, her face lighting up. “She finally slept through the night, which means I actually feel like a human being today. Though she has been misbehaving lately…” Suddenly, her gaze shifted toward the counter, her expression sharpening with recognition. “Wait… I think I know that woman.”“Who?”I turned in my seat and spotted a tal