Todos los capítulos de After The Divorce: He Wanted Me Back: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

IsabellaMy fingers curled around the edge of the couch, grounding myself as my thoughts spiraled. The room felt smaller, too warm, too close—like Gabriel was suddenly everywhere, even when he wasn’t here.Mia watched me carefully, frustration simmering beneath her sharp gaze.“Isa,” she said slowly, like she was choosing every word with effort, “listen to me. A fruit basket and a handwritten note don’t erase everything he did to you.”I swallowed hard. “I know.”“Do you?” She crossed her arms tightly. “Because you’re looking at that basket like it’s a damn wedding ring.”“It’s not like that…” But even I didn’t believe myself.Mia scoffed. “Please. If this was anyone else—literally ANYONE—you’d have slammed the door in their face. But because it’s Gabriel—because it’s THAT man—you suddenly forget the years he ignored you? The nights he didn’t come home? The way he left you signing divorce papers ALONE?”Her voice cracked at the end—not with emotion, but with anger. With protectiveness

IsabellaThe laughter came first—a sound so bright and sharp it cut through the tension of the room.“Gabriel! You’re taking forever!”I blinked, my stomach tightening. The voice wasn’t coming from inside the apartment.Outside, standing confidently at the door, was a girl.She was… impossible to ignore.Her hair was a cascade of chestnut waves, tumbling loosely past her shoulders, catching the morning sun. Her eyes—big, lively, and mischievous—sparkled as if daring the world to bore her. A wide, genuine grin stretched across her face, brightening the hallway. She wore a soft yellow blouse that matched her sunny personality and simple jeans that somehow made her look effortless. One hand rested casually on the doorframe, the other holding a small messenger bag, as if she had been waiting for this moment all along.Gabriel’s chest tightened. His hand fell from the doorknob as he stepped aside slightly, his eyes never leaving her.The girl leaned toward the open door, tilting her head w

IsabellaThe quiet didn’t last long.It never did.Antonio had someone bring out a small table under the old mango tree—apparently he refused to let me walk the vineyard without “proper merienda.” I laughed and told him he was spoiling me, but he waved me off and disappeared again to scold someone about over-pruning the vines.Which left me alone with Elias.He set down a glass of iced calamansi tea in front of me. “Careful,” he said. “It’s cold. Papa insists everything here should taste like sunshine.”I smiled faintly. “Sunshine is better than stress.”“Agreed.” He pulled out the chair across from me. “May I?”“Of course.”He sat, and for a moment, the world felt unusually still — the kind of stillness that existed only in places untouched by noise, ego, or expectations.He reached for a bibingka slice but paused as his eyes drifted to my stomach again — again, subtle, never invasive.“Is it okay if I ask… how far along you are?” he said gently.I inhaled slowly. “Three months.”“C

IsabellaThe ride home is quiet.Not the peaceful kind of quiet — the kind that settles gently, like a blanket. No. This one feels tighter. Like the air is wrapped too closely around my ribs.Outside the window, streetlights blur into soft gold streaks. Houses pass by in calm, steady rows. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks. People live their lives. People move on.But inside this car… it feels like time is holding its breath.Gabriel keeps both hands on the wheel, shoulders stiff, jaw locked like he’s holding back a thousand things he doesn’t want to say. I can feel the tension radiating off him — the kind that fills the entire space even when he isn’t speaking.I shouldn’t be this aware of him anymore.I shouldn’t notice the way his fingers shift every time he corrects the steering. I shouldn’t notice the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. I shouldn’t be able to feel — physically feel — every time he looks at me even without turning his head.But I do.God, I do.And I h

IsabellaI shake the thought out of my head and force myself to focus as Elias walks beside me, pointing out the sections we need to review. His voice is steady, calm—like it always is—but he keeps glancing sideways at me, as if checking whether I’m really alright.“I’m fine,” I murmur before he can ask again.He gives a small nod. “Just making sure.”We walk in silence for a while. The vineyard is quiet again—the kind of quiet I love. Leaves rustling, gentle breeze, the low hum of workers getting back into rhythm. Compared to the storm Emily brought, the stillness feels almost sacred.Elias stops beside one of the lower rows and crouches down to inspect the soil.“She really didn’t know what she was talking about,” he mutters.I snort. “You think?”He smiles up at me, soft and a little amused. “I’m sorry if I was too… direct with her. I just don’t like it when people come here acting like they know better than you.”Warmth spreads in my chest. Protective but quiet about it. Steady w