Lahat ng Kabanata ng Chasing His Divorced Wife: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

DAMIEN'S POVVictoria sent a letter from prison. It arrived on a Wednesday, forwarded through her lawyer. I stared at it for three days before opening it."You don't have to read it," Elara said."I know. But I think I need to."The letter was two pages, handwritten. Her usually perfect script looked shaky.“Damien,I don't expect forgiveness. I don't deserve it. But I need you to understand why I did what I did.When your father died, you were five. I promised myself I'd build something that would protect you forever. Hartley Enterprises became that promise. Every decision, every sacrifice, was about securing your future.Then you started making your own choices. The divorce, the restructuring, all of it felt like you were destroying what I'd built to protect you. I panicked. I thought if I could just make you stop, make you listen, you'd see reason.I never meant to kill you. I just wanted you unconscious long enough to cancel the London meeting. I miscalculated the dosage. When I s

ELARA'S POVDamien moved in over two weeks in February. Not because moving was complicated, but because he kept second-guessing which belongings to bring."It's a bookshelf, not a marriage proposal," I said, watching him deliberate."But it's ugly. You have good taste. This doesn't match.""So leave it. Why is this so hard?"He sat on his empty apartment floor. "Because moving in together feels permanent. Like we're actually doing this.""We are actually doing this. You said yes two weeks ago.""I know. I'm just scared I'll mess it up.""You will mess it up sometimes. So will I. That's not a reason to avoid it."He brought the bookshelf. It was ugly, but it was his, and that mattered.The first week living together was awkward. We'd stayed over at each other's places countless times, but actually sharing space was different. He reorganized my kitchen twice before I stopped him."This is my apartment. You're moving into my space, not redesigning it.""I'm sorry. I'm trying to make it f

ELARA'S POVThree months after Victoria's death, Damien proposed. Not romantically or planned—he just asked one Sunday morning over pancakes."Will you marry me again?"I almost dropped my fork. "What?""Marry me. I know we failed the first time, but we're different now. I'm different. I want to do it right.""Damien, we've been living together for four months. That's not very long.""We were married for three years before. That should count for something.""It counts as reasons to be careful, not reasons to rush."He deflated. "You're saying no.""I'm saying not yet. Ask me in a year when we've proven we can actually sustain this.""A year?""Yes. If we're still good in a year, ask again."He looked disappointed but nodded. "Okay. A year."I felt guilty for saying no, but I wasn't making the same mistake twice. We needed more time.A week later, my Seattle gallery had a break-in. Someone smashed the front window and stole three pieces worth over a hundred thousand combined.I got the

DAMIEN'S POVDecember arrived and I had a ring.I'd bought it three months ago from a jeweler in Portland who specialized in custom pieces. Not the kind of ring my mother would have approved of, no giant diamond designed to signal wealth. A simple gold band with a small oval sapphire, deep blue, the color of the ocean Elara painted in her studio whenever she was happy.James had seen it and said nothing for a full ten seconds."That's not a Cross family ring," he finally said."No. It's an Elara ring."He nodded slowly. "Good."I'd been carrying it in my jacket pocket for six weeks, which was probably excessive, but I couldn't decide on the moment. Nothing felt right. Too planned felt wrong. Too casual felt disrespectful. I was overthinking it, which James pointed out repeatedly."Just ask her," he said over lunch in the second week of December. "You've been asking her every day for a year without saying the words. She knows it's coming.""She knew it was coming last time too and that

DAMIEN'S POVJames called me into his office the second week of January.That alone was unusual. James didn't call me into his office. We had lunch, we talked in hallways, we texted at odd hours. A formal meeting request meant something was wrong.I sat across from him and waited.He slid a folder across the desk. "Marcus Webb made an offer."I opened it. Thirty percent stake in Cross Industries at a valuation that was generous enough to be suspicious. "When did this come in?""Friday. I didn't want to ruin your weekend.""You should have called me.""I'm calling you now."I read through the offer terms. Clean on the surface, structured well. Marcus had good lawyers. "What's the catch?""Board seats. He wants two. And a clause that gives him right of first refusal on any future sale.""So he gets a foot in the door and a guaranteed path to more.""That's my read."I closed the folder. "No.""You haven't considered it.""I don't need to. Marcus has been trying to get inside this compan