All Chapters of Dear Ex, See you never: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

116 Chapters

the night it all ends

Millicent’s povIs that… moaning? I’m sure it is. The sound is insanely familiar, it can hardly be mistaken. As I step into the doorway, the first thing i notice is the sound. Not just… breathing, but heavy, with crazy rhythm, too intimate to belong to anyone other than two people who should never be sharing oxygen. I take one step into the doorway and my world ends. “What the fuck?” I whisper under my breath Brian, who’s my husband by the way, is inside me…no, not inside me, inside her, my best friend, Ria, skin to skin, tangled in the sheets I washed yesterday, the sheets that still smell faintly of my perfume. Gosh, the sight of them make me want to give into my knees but not yet. His hands are on her hips like they’ve always belonged there, her head is thrown back on my pillow. My pillow, the one I slept on just last night while waiting for Brian to come home.I freeze and my throat burns so hard it feels like I’m swallowing fire. I am. My hands won’t move because they can’t, n

the divorce

Millicent’s povI’m sitting in the courthouse and the air tastes like metal, defeat, and old papers, it’s the kind of place where people come and never leave the same way, and today’s definitely my turn. I sit alone on the cold wooden bench, with my fingers twisted together so tight they look bloodless. Brian is late, which is somehow worse because, when he arrives, he does so in the exact way I feared he would, with Ria by his side. They walk in arms locked in on each other, her hair glossy, her dress is soft pink, like the innocence she lacks, she’s walks in with a smile on her face, aware that she had destroy the last ten years of my life. Brian looks well-rested and confident, the kind of confidence men get when they’ve already forgotten the woman who loved them, cared for them and even gave them a sweet little boy. He doesn’t even glance at me, but the sight of them together burns something in my stomach, something dark.I swallow it down, because I need to breathe, I need to s

the downfall

Millicent’s povThe first misfortune of the day starts at 3:17 a.m., with the sound of my Josh crying and coughing so hard that it echoes inside the thin walls of my mom’s old crib. I hop out of bed before I’m even fully awake, my feet hitting the cold floor, and my heart beating faster than it should. My fear is losing him, that’s what would shatter me especially now that Brian has already cracked me open.When I reach josh, he’s curled up with his tiny hands on his chest, breathing too fast, his skin is moist, and his lips are pale. I’ve seen this too many times before.“Oh my sweet baby boy, look at mommy,” I whisper, lifting him gently, his body feels lighter than it should, like he’s fading. I hold him, rubbing his back gently until the coughing eases, then I grab the emergency inhaler and pray it’s enough to soothe him even though it never is. It worked, his breathing slowly goes back to normal, and I spoon him for the rest of the night. Pouring kisses on him, before passing out

the eviction threat

Millicent’s povRecently, some days, life taps me lightly on the shoulders, but other days, it grabs me by the hair and drags me across concrete. This morning, it’s the latter. I’m opening the studio, or trying to at least, when a pure white city sedan pulls up right across the yard, the kind officials use when they want to ruin someone’s day with paperwork. A man in neat shirt nicely tucked into his jeans steps out, I wonder how he achieved that with such tummy like he eats for three people, his governmental badge is hooked just at the left side of his belt. His expression is obvious, he’s bored, and that’s the look of someone who’s already decided my life is an inconvenience.“Millicent Andrews?” he asks.“Yes,” I answer, holding Josh on my hips, he’s sleepy and clinging to my shirt. The man barely glances at him, he just lifts a bright red paper and slaps it against my studio door like he’s posting a notice on a public toilet.FINAL WARNING: DEMOLITION IN 7 DAYS.My mouth goes dry

the billionaire’s shadow

Millicent’s povThe town has began talking, no, whispering and every whisper has the same name wrapped in fear, awe, and a little bit of spice and venom. Damon Hale.I hear it first from the baker two doors down, speaking in a hushed tone with her husband, like saying it too loud might summon the devil himself. Then from Mrs. Hernandez at the corner store, whose eyes widen like she’s repeating the name of a ghost, or an abomination. By noon, the entire main street knows who bought the block and by past noon, every rumor reaches me like blows to the under ribs.“He buys land, tears everything it down, and turns it into luxury hotels, not caring who he destroys.”“People say he’s ruined three small towns already. He’s moving fast and he isn’t stopping anytime soon. God help us.”“I heard he bankrupts anyone who resists even a little, running them to the ground without mercy.”“They call him the ‘shadow billionaire’ who strikes without warning.”“Someone once went against him and their s

the long walk

Millicent's POV The alarm goes off at 4:47 AM. Thirteen minutes before I set it. My body knows what's coming even when my brain is still half asleep. Josh is already moving in the crib next to my bed. Making those soft whimpering sounds that mean he'll be fully awake in about ten minutes whether I'm ready or not. I get up anyway. The floor is cold. I shuffle to the kitchen and heat his bottle with one hand. The other hand rubs my face. My eyes burn. The house is quiet except for my mother snoring in the living room. She didn’t make it to her bedroom again. The Smirnoff bottle is on the coffee table, the cheap kind with the red label, tipped on its side. I already know how today is gonna go. "Okay baby boy," I whisper as Josh starts to fuss. "Mama's got you." I feed him in the gray light before dawn. His tiny fingers curl around mine while he drinks. He's been better this week. No coughing fits. No midnight emergencies. I'm grateful for small things. When he's done, I burp him,

the man behind the wall

Damon's POVThe acquisition reports are giving me a headache.Not because they're hard to understand. They're just boring. Twelve pages saying the same thing over and over: the Westbrook development will make money. A lot of money. The kind that adds another zero to quarterly earnings and makes shareholders cry happy tears.I already knew that. I knew it before I bought the first property on that block, knew it when I signed the demolition orders. I don't need twelve pages to tell me what I already see."Mr. Hale?"I look up. Gregory, my assistant, is standing in the doorway with that look he gets when he's about to tell me something annoying."What is it?""The woman from the demolition site. She's back."I put down the reports. "Back where?""Here. At headquarters." He pulls something up on his tablet and turns it so I can see. Security footage from the main lobby. "This is the third day in a row."On the screen, a young woman in a black dress is arguing with the receptionist. She's

the fourth day

Millicent’s POV Day four. Same bench, same dress, same security guards pretending they aren’t watching me through the lobby windows. But today I have a plan. The first three days I was just reacting, showing up, demanding to be seen, getting thrown out, and it felt good in the moment, righteous even, but it didn’t change anything. Damon Hale is still in his tower. My studio is still set for demolition. And I’m still sitting here like a crazy person while my mother tries not to drink herself unconscious before noon. Today is different. Today I’m not demanding anything. I’m watching, learning, looking for cracks. The lobby has a pattern. I’ve been studying it for hours, tracking the flow of people the way I’d track light through a lens. The morning rush hits around eight, suits streaming through the revolving doors, most of them heading for the main elevator bank on the left, the one that serves floors two through forty. I counted the buttons through the glass. But there’s an

face to face

Millicent's POVThe room looks like a church built for money.That's the first thing that comes to mind. Tall windows, floor to ceiling, the city spread out below like it belongs to whoever's standing here. Furniture that looks too expensive to sit on. Art I don't recognize but know I could never afford to touch.And behind a desk the size of my entire studio sits Damon Hale.He doesn't stand when I walk in, doesn't look up either. The guards place me in front of the desk and leave. The door shuts behind them with a click that feels like a cage closing.I wait. He keeps writing. The silence stretches.Finally he sets his pen down and looks at me.I've seen pictures. Everyone has. The "shadow billionaire" with the cold eyes and the even colder reputation. But pictures don't show you what it's actually like to stand in front of him. He's older than I thought, late forties maybe, gray running through his dark hair. But nothing about him is soft, his posture, his suit, the flat way his ey

the neighborhood meeting

Millicent's POVMrs. Hernandez's corner store smells like dust and cilantro and the particular mustiness of a building that's been standing since before any of us were born. We're crammed in the back room between shelves of canned goods and cleaning supplies, a group of people who have nothing in common except the red demolition notices taped to our doors.I count twelve bodies. Twelve business owners. Twelve families. Twelve futures hanging by a thread.Marcus speaks first. He owns the hardware store three doors down from my studio, a big man with rough hands and a voice like gravel. "This is a waste of time.""Marcus.." Mrs. Hernandez starts."No, let me finish." He crosses his arms and glares at me. "Hale has money, lawyers, politicians. We've got what, a petition? A few angry emails? It's over. It was over the moment he decided he wanted our block.""It's not over until we say it's over." This from Elena, the baker, a tiny woman with flour still dusted in her hair. She's been runn

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