Lahat ng Kabanata ng After The Divorce: He Wanted Me Back: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Isabella The site had settled into its usual rhythm when the interruption arrived.Not abrupt. Not chaotic. Just… unnecessary.I noticed the shift before I saw her—the slight ripple in attention, a few heads turning toward the access road. When I looked up, Emily was already there, walking carefully over the gravel with a thermal carrier in her hands.She wasn’t looking for Gabriel.She already knew exactly where he was.Gabriel noticed her too. His expression didn’t change much, but his shoulders stiffened slightly as she approached one of the assistants stationed near the temporary office.“Hi,” Emily said brightly. “I’m here to drop this off.”The assistant frowned. “Drop off?”“For Gabriel,” she said, lifting the carrier. “His mom cooked.”That caught my attention.I watched as the assistant hesitated, clearly uncertain. “I was supposed to—”“I know,” Emily cut in smoothly. “But you were busy, right? So I told you I’d take care of it.”The assistant looked uncomfortable but didn’

Isabella The way back to the office was quiet, and by the time we stepped inside, the usual hum of activity didn’t reach me. Elias was unusually silent, moving with precise, almost mechanical motions as he placed his tablet on his desk.I lingered by the doorway, watching him. The office felt smaller than usual, the air heavier somehow. His jaw was tight, and he avoided eye contact completely. I could feel the tension radiating off him in waves, but he made no move to explain it—or even acknowledge it.I swallowed and decided to try. “Elias…” My voice was soft, tentative. Just one word, meant to bridge the space between us.He didn’t look up. Not even a flicker of recognition.“Yes?” His tone was clipped, one word, just enough to acknowledge I had spoken without inviting conversation.I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, frustration prickling under my skin. “Are you… okay?” I tried again, more gently this time, hoping to reach past whatever wall he’d built.He shifted slightly, eyes st

Isabella I closed the door behind me with a soft click and let out a long, almost inaudible sigh. The day had been long, exhausting in ways that went far beyond physical tiredness. The briefing, the site, Elias’ silence, Mia’s piercing questions over dinner—it all felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on my chest. I leaned against the door for a moment, letting the quiet of my room swallow me whole.I stripped off my work clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the chair by the bed. The cool air of the room brushed against my skin, making me shiver slightly, and I realized I hadn’t even noticed the heat of the day until now.The shower was hot, scalding even, and I let the water wash over me, trying to scrub away the tension, the frustration, the guilt that had been coiling tight inside me all afternoon. Steam rose around me, curling in lazy spirals, and for a few brief moments, I allowed myself to just… breathe. No deadlines, no contracts, no Thornes, no Elias, no Gabriel. Just wate

Isabella His hand lingered a moment longer before letting go. I stepped into the corridor, the fluorescent lights harsh after the dimness of the ICU. Each step away felt like pulling a thread through my chest, delicate and dangerous. I told myself it was just for Margaret. Only for Margaret.The elevator ride down was quieter than before. My thoughts spun, but I tried to steady them, tried to remind myself that I could leave this tangled web behind for now. Yet, the memory of Gabriel’s gaze—the weight behind it, the honesty, the ache—pressed against my ribs like a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.When I reached the lobby, the early morning hush of the hospital felt almost unreal. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee, an odd combination that made my stomach twist. I sank into a chair near the automatic doors, wrapping my coat tightly around me.The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss as I stood, the cool air brushing against my face. Outside, the sky was still caught bet

Isabella By midday, the rumors had stopped being whispers.They traveled fast across the site, carried in half-muttered conversations and lingering glances, reshaped and sharpened with every retelling. Margaret Thorne’s name followed me wherever I went—slipping into meetings, hanging in the air during inspections, curling into the spaces between words.Stroke. Heart attack. Cover-up.No one knew anything for certain, which somehow made everyone an expert.I kept my head down, focused on work, but the sense of being watched never quite faded. Every time my phone buzzed, my pulse jumped. Every time someone said Thorne, my chest tightened before I could stop it.Emily had taken over with ruthless efficiency.She moved through the site like she’d been there from day one—asking the right questions, calling people by name, issuing instructions with a confidence that brooked no hesitation. She stayed close, too, hovering near my shoulder during walk-throughs, inserting herself into conver