All Chapters of Ashes Of His Regret : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

ESMERALDA'S POVThree days LaterDamien made me wait exactly three days before texting Julian back."Desperation is a timer," he said. "Let it tick."So I did.Now I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Tribeca, watching the door, wearing jeans and a sweater because Damien said "don't try too hard.""You're already in his head," he told me this morning. "Now you just need to stay there."Julian arrives six minutes late. Flustered, apologetic, carrying flowers.White roses.My favorite. Or they were, anyway. I don't know what my favorite anything is anymore."I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic was" He stops. "These are for you."I take them. "Thank you."He sits down across from me, fidgeting. Julian never fidgets."You came," he says."I said I would.""I know, I just.... I wasn't sure." He signals the waiter. "What do you want? Coffee? They have good pastries here. You used to love the almond croissants."I did. Before I watched every calorie because I thought maybe if I was perfect enough, he'd

DAMIEN'S POVI watched the footage three times.It's from the coffee shop. Angle from the security camera across the street. You can barely see their faces but I can read body language.The way Julian leans forward.The way Esmeralda leans back.The flowers he brought that she left behind.Marcus walks into my office without knocking. "You're watching it again.""Quality control.""Bullshit." He sits down uninvited. "How many times have you watched this?""Does it matter?""Yes, actually. Because you're supposed to be reviewing the Westfield acquisition and instead you're watching your wife have coffee with her ex-husband for the fourth time today."I close the laptop."It's part of the plan," I say. "I need to monitor how it's going.""You need to let her do her job without obsessing over every second of it." He leans back. "She's good at this, Damien. You picked well.""I didn't pick her. The situation—""You picked her. Eight years ago at Harvard and again three months ago when yo

ESMERALDA'S POVCafé Noir is exactly the kind of place Julian would pick.Dim lighting, intimate tables,Jazz playing low in the background. The kind of place where people lean close and share secrets.The kind of place where people cheat.I'm wearing the dress Damien picked out. Navy blue, modest neckline, but it fits like it was made for me.Because it was."You look perfect," he said this morning while I was getting ready. "Just distant enough to make him work for it."Then he left for work without touching me.We haven't touched in three days.Not since the kitchen. Not since "you don't have me."I don't know why I said that. It was true, technically. But the look on his faceI push the thought away.Julian's already there when I walk in. He stands immediately, knocking his water glass in the process."Shit. Sorry. I…." He mops it up with his napkin. "You look beautiful.""Thank you."He pulls out my chair. Another habit from when we were married. He was always good at small gestur

JULIAN'S POVVivienne's belly has gotten big enough that she grunts when she sits down.I noticed this at dinner. We're at some restaurant mother picked, french and expensive. The kind of place where everything comes with foam on it."The doctor says she's measuring perfectly," Vivienne says, one hand on her stomach. Always one hand on her stomach now. Like she's reminding me."That's good," I say."You'd know that if you'd come to the last appointment.""I had a meeting.""You always have a meeting." She takes a sip of water. No wine. She gave that up months ago. "My mother asked if you'll be at the shower next week.""What shower?"Her face does something. "The baby shower, Julian. The one we've been planning for two months. The one I've mentioned at least twelve times."Have we? Have I been listening?"Right. Yes. I'll be there.""Will you?" She's not eating her food. Just moving it around her plate. "Or will you have another meeting?""Vivienne—""I'm not stupid. I see what's hap

VIVIENNE'S POVThe second envelope comes on a Thursday.Thicker than the first.I open it at the kitchen table while Julian's at "work." Which means he's probably having drinks somewhere thinking about her.More photos. These ones are older. From three months ago.Esmeralda and Damien Hale at a bar. She's wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Hair messy. He's in a suit.They're talking, close and intimately.The timestamp says 11:47 PM.Two days after my pregnancy announcement went public.Two days after Julian posted that perfect photo of us with his hand on my belly.She was already moving on.I flip to the next page.Financial records. Wire transfer from Hale Industries to Esmeralda Morrison.$250,000.Three days after the bar photo.Another transfer two weeks later. $100,000.And another. And another.All with vague descriptions. "Consulting fees." "Professional services." "Contract fulfillment."Contract fulfillment.I pull out the partial contract from the first envelope. Read it again.