All Chapters of After The Divorce: He Wanted Me Back: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Isabella The roses sat on the table, their dark petals almost glowing in the low light of the dining room. I traced the edges with my finger, feeling the velvety texture, and my thoughts drifted back to Gabriel—his presence, his words, the way he had lingered in the doorway for that fraction of a second that felt like a lifetime.I wanted to ignore it. I had promised myself I could. Elias was waiting. Dinner, just a simple evening, meant to give me a break. And yet, my pulse kept returning to the moment when Gabriel had said, “You are carrying my—”Shaking my head, I exhaled. I wouldn’t let it get to me. Not tonight.I slipped on a pair of nude heels, adjusting the hem of my cream silk dress. The soft fabric clung just enough to show the curve of my small bump. I caught my reflection in the mirror and forced a smile. Warm, confident, normal. Elias deserved that tonight.I stepped outside into the cool evening air, the sky streaked with the pale gold of the setting sun. The truck was

IsabellaI woke up to the smell of something burning.Not smoke—just enough bitterness in the air to make my brow crease. Toast, maybe. Coffee. Something scorched. My hand moved instinctively to my stomach before I even opened my eyes, grounding myself, steadying the dull weight of awareness that came with morning.Then I remembered.The sofa.The blanket.Gabriel.I sat up slowly, listening.There was movement outside my bedroom. Soft, clumsy sounds. A cabinet opening. Closing. The faint clink of ceramic. Someone struggling with something mechanical.I exhaled through my nose.Of course.I swung my legs off the bed and walked down the hallway, barefoot, careful not to make a sound. I stopped at the kitchen doorway—and there he was.Gabriel stood in the middle of my kitchen like he belong there.Sleeves rolled up unevenly. Hair still damp. His posture tense, focused, almost stubborn. He was staring down at my coffee maker like it had personally betrayed him.I crossed my arms and watc

IsabellaThe lights dimmed gradually, a subtle cue that the evening was shifting gears.Conversations softened, glasses were set down, and people began drifting toward the main hall where a low stage had been prepared. Soft instrumental music filled the space—polished, elegant, meant to signal importance without demanding too much emotion.“The ceremony’s starting,” Elias said quietly beside me. “This is the part where everyone pretends they’re not measuring their worth by who gets mentioned.”I exhaled softly. “Sounds exhausting.”He smiled. “Welcome to my world.”We took our seats at one of the round tables near the center—not too close to the stage, not too far either. Strategic. Everything tonight was.A woman in a sleek black gown stepped onto the stage, microphone in hand. Her voice was warm, practiced.“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us tonight in celebrating collaboration, legacy, and progress—values that continue to shape our industries and communities.”Polite

IsabellaThere are memories that don’t fade no matter how much time passes. They don’t soften. They don’t dull. They wait—quietly, patiently—until something cracks you open enough for them to rush back in.Like now.The music in the ballroom blurred into background noise as I moved away from the dance floor, my heels carrying me forward while my mind slipped backward—years into the past, into a version of Gabriel the world rarely saw.The Gabriel who knelt.The Gabriel who shook.The Gabriel who loved me without reservation.It had been late afternoon, the kind where the sky was painted in warm gold, the sun low and indulgent. Gabriel had told me we were visiting one of the older Thorne properties—just business, he’d said, casual, almost distracted.I should have known better.The vineyard stretched endlessly before me when we arrived, rows of green heavy with fruit, the air sweet and earthy. Lanterns hung between posts, unlit but waiting. White fabric danced softly in the breeze. The

Isabella I woke to the sound of movement.Not abrupt. Not careless. Just… there.For half a second, panic flared—my body reacting before my mind caught up. Then I remembered. The hospital. The drive home. The weight beside me that hadn’t left.Gabriel.I didn’t open my eyes right away.The bed dipped slightly as he shifted, careful even in sleep. I could feel the heat of him at my back, close enough to be unmistakable, far enough to be intentional. His arm was no longer around me, but I could sense where it had been, like my skin remembered before I did.Morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and pale. Too gentle for the mess in my head.I inhaled slowly.My body felt… sore, but stable. No sharp pain. No panic curling in my stomach. Instinctively, my hand moved to my abdomen. Still flat. Still quiet.Relief washed over me—quick, overwhelming—before I pushed it back down. I wouldn’t let myself spiral. Not now.Behind me, Gabriel exhaled.I felt him sit up.The mattress shif