All Chapters of The Clapback of An Ex-wife : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Clara POV The phone rang on the other end as I placed it close to my ear, my palm sweaty and shaking. Sandra, my husband’s secretary, took the call and we exchanged pleasantries.“Ma’am,” she continued. “Mr Clark left the office four hours ago. He mentioned having something very important to attend to.”Important. The word hit me like a slap.I forced a smile into my voice, even though my lips were trembling. “Oh. Alright. Thank you, Sandra.I ended the call before she could hear the crack in my voice, and threw the phone on the dining table, echoing a dull thud in the extremely quiet house.My eyes fell at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock. At night. He’d been gone for hours and didn’t even bother to call.Today wasn’t just any day, it was our wedding anniversary. Five years of marriage, five years of me trying, waiting and hopeful. He would look everywhere but at me. I had waited all these years, hoping he’ll eventually come around. My chest tightened as I looked at the

Bruno POV It's been a week since Clara walked out of this house with nothing but that divorce paper clutched to her chest.Not a call. Not a text. Not a single sign of her.That had never happened before. In five years of living with her, I’d gotten used to her constant presence, I hate to admit it was soft, quiet, irritatingly hopeful. No matter how harsh I’d been, she always circled back, always found a way to sit at the edge of my silence and wait for me to notice her.I thought she’d come back this time too.I thought she’d crawl back in tears, begging me to reconsider, promising to try harder, to be better, like she always did. And then I’d finally hand her some money, tell her to go start over somewhere else, somewhere far from me, far from us. I was happy that she had gone, and for the first time in years, the house felt different. Peaceful.Linda was here now. My Linda. The woman I’d wanted from the start. The woman I was robbed of when my grandfather forced me to marry Cl

Clara POV The courtyard of the orphanage was alive with noise. Kids ran in circles, balloons bobbed above their heads, reporters moving up and down at the edges with their cameras snapping at every smile. Someone had set up a mic stand, the sound system squealed once, then steadied.I took a deep breath, forced a smile, and walked forward to give my opening speech.“This is home,” I said, looking at the small faces staring back at me. “isn’t just walls and beds. It’s hope. A place where children who were abandoned, forgotten, or left behind get to feel like they belong. And for me… this place is family. A place where we do not judge, many faces but all familiar and not strange. This is our little home. And until the day that I die, I’ll make sure they never feel the absence of parental love.”My voice cracked a little on that last word. The reporters probably thought it was for effect. But it wasn’t. It felt good to be on that stage.Applause rose, scattered but filling. A little b

Bruno POV I have been staring at my laptop for God knows how many hours- Not work, Not some presentation but stuck on Clara’s profile. How did this happen? A doctor?! A business mogul? She even owns an orphanage home?. The same woman I once dismissed, betrayed, crushed now stood at the peak of the world, the one I barely know nothing about. Isn’t she dead? I mean, that was what I was told. “Shit” I slammed the laptop closed. Rested my head backwards staring up at the ceiling. So many thoughts ran through my head, both the ones I understood and the ones I couldn’t even put together. I got up the chair, pacing around the room panicking, picked my phone and searched for her name again after again. Dr Clara Benson. At this point I was beginning to act reckless. Actually, it was hard to believe. Hard to know that the woman who once couldn’t do without me now lives without my presence. “Goodnight sir”- the sudden voice caused me to halt. Looking behind at Elnora who had already

Clara POV The smell of antiseptic and the beeping of machines were nothing new in my life anymore. I stood next to the hospital bed, watching the little child on the bed, whose chest rose and fall weakly. Thank goodness I'd left the meeting as soon as possible, if not the case might have turned out differently. I swallowed hard the lump formed in my throat as I adjusted the IV line. Memories flashed before my eyes again. Memories from the moment the little child was brought into the orphanage. Zara, that was her name. She was just eight, fragile and quiet but with the eyes of sadness no child should ever have. She was brought in barely two months ago, scared, malnourished with a compiling file of medical records.Zara fought against Leukemia- blood cancer and this has made her lose so much strength. I’d promised Zara on the day she arrived, that she would be okay, that I would do everything in my power to make sure she gets her bone marrow transplant in which I was not stopping