After The Divorce: He Wanted Me Back のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

Isabella The office hummed quietly, the low pulse of computers and air systems filling the space like a metronome. I had just finished reviewing the post-signing reports from the morning meeting—the digital copies of the contracts, the annotated notes from Elias, the brief follow-ups from Mara confirming receipt by Thorne Enterprises. Everything aligned, as expected.Mara appeared at the door again, tablet in hand. “Ms. Reyes, Mr. Lucas is confirming the lunch for 12:30. Should I accept?”I set my pen down, glancing briefly at the schedule on my screen. There was a small window of time before the afternoon briefings. A lunch wasn’t a risk—it was data. Observation. Opportunity.“Yes,” I said. “Confirm. Make it clear I’ll be punctual.”Mara nodded, tapping the tablet, then left without another word.I returned to my folder of Riverside project updates, skimming the margin notes Elias had highlighted. Half an hour passed in quiet focus, fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood

Isabella Onsite work stripped people down to what they actually understood.Conference rooms allowed for posturing. Offices rewarded preparation. But construction sites—active ones—exposed gaps immediately. You either knew how systems worked, or you didn’t.The Riverside site stretched across several hectares of controlled chaos. Steel beams rose from the ground like a skeletal framework, cranes arcing overhead with slow precision. The air smelled of concrete, oil, and dust—raw materials shaping permanence.I stepped out of the vehicle beside Elias, hard hat already secured, safety vest fastened without fuss. Engineers moved quickly around us, radios clipped to their belts, tablets in hand. No one stopped unnecessarily. They knew better.Thorne Enterprises’ team had arrived earlier.Lucas stood near a temporary planning table, blueprints spread out and weighted at the corners. He looked more at ease here than he ever did in a boardroom—sleeves rolled, tie gone, attention fixed on tan

Isabella I was still holding the cup when it happened.Gabriel hadn’t moved away yet. He stood close enough for conversation, far enough not to crowd—an intentional distance. The site noise blurred into the background, machinery grinding steadily, voices overlapping in practiced rhythm.“Isabella.”Elias’ voice cut in smoothly from behind us.I turned.He was walking toward us, jacket slung over one arm, a paper cup in his other hand. Same calm presence. Same timing that was never accidental.“I thought you’d need this,” he said, stopping beside me and holding the cup out.I looked between the two cups.Gabriel noticed immediately. His gaze dropped to my hand, then lifted back up, amused. “Ah,” he said. “Competition.”Elias glanced at the coffee already in my hand, then at Gabriel. “I didn’t realize she’d already been taken care of.”“Just temporarily,” Gabriel replied easily.I exhaled through my nose. “You both act like I can’t acquire coffee on my own.”Elias’ mouth twitched. “You

Isabella By the time I stepped out of the car, the city had fully surrendered to night.The house lights were already on, warm against the dark, the familiar geometry of glass and concrete waiting the way it always did—steady, unchanged. Elias remained in the driver’s seat for a moment after I closed the door, hands resting loosely on the wheel. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t need to.Neither of us said anything.I walked up the front steps, keyed in the code, and let myself inside.The door closed softly behind me.Only then did the weight of the conversation settle.Not all at once—Isabella Reyes didn’t unravel that way—but in layers. In fragments. In moments that replayed without invitation.Because I hadn’t expected it.Elias had always been constant. Reliable. Measured. He was the kind of man whose presence never demanded interpretation. What he said was what he meant. What he didn’t say stayed precisely where it belonged.Or so I’d believed.I set my bag down on the console ta

Isabella The car moved smoothly through morning traffic, the city still settling into its rhythm.Elias drove in silence at first, eyes on the road, posture unchanged from the countless mornings we’d shared like this before. If anything had shifted between us, he didn’t let it show. That, somehow, made it harder.I watched the buildings pass, glass and concrete catching the early light, and decided not to let the moment extend any further.“About last night,” I said.Elias didn’t look at me. “You don’t need to.”“I want to.”That got his attention. He glanced at me briefly, then back to the road. “Alright.”I folded my hands in my lap, choosing my words with care. “What you said—”“You don’t have to explain,” he said calmly. “Or justify anything.”“That’s not what I’m doing.”He nodded once, signaling for me to continue.“I wasn’t expecting it,” I said. “And I don’t want you thinking I dismissed it.”“I don’t,” he replied immediately.There was no edge in his voice. No disappointment