MY EX HUSBAND’S REGRET のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Ivy’s POV I didn’t sleep. How could I? Every time I close my eyes, I see those pictures haunting me. And the fact that nobody was on my side…that made it worse. I stayed curled up on our bed, still wearing my birthday dress, my mascara had dried in crusty streaks down my cheeks. The house was so quiet I could hear the refrigerator humming downstairs. Usually that sound annoyed me, but tonight it was the only thing keeping me company. So sad. I kept listening for Ethan’s movement, hoping he would walk through the bedroom door and tell me he believed me. That he knew me better than some fake photos. But he didn’t show up, not even his shadow. But before you knew it, the sun was up already, and I was still alone with my thoughts and bawling eyes. I picked my phone that sat on the night stand up with shaking hands. 3:47 AM was the last time I checked the time, and now it was already 8:23 AM.There were no missed calls or texts from anyone, not that i was expecting considering how t

Ivy’s POV The sheets smelled like expensive cologne and regret. The hotel room was too bright, sunlight pouring through those massive windows like it had a personal vendetta against my hangover. My head was pounding, my mouth tasted like something had died in it, and my body ached in places that reminded me exactly what I had done last night. I turned my head slowly, afraid of what I might find. The other side of the bed was empty. Cold. Adrian was gone. Of course he was. That’s what people did after one night stands, right? They left before things got awkward. Before the alcohol wore off and reality set in and you had to face the fact that you’d fucked a stranger to forget your husband. Ex-husband, I corrected myself. Soon to be ex-husband. I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest even though there was no one there to see me naked. My clothes were scattered across the floor, a trail of bad decisions leading from the door to the bed. My phone was on the nightstand,

The apartment was on the fourth floor of a building that had seen better days. Probably in the seventies. I stood in the doorway with the last of my boxes, staring at the empty space that was supposed to be my fresh start. The walls were beige, that sad kind of beige that wasn’t trying to be neutral, just existing because no one had bothered to paint over it. The floor was worn hardwood, scratched and dull, with a stain near the window that looked suspiciously like old water damage. One room. That was it. One room that served as bedroom, living room, and whatever else I needed it to be. A tiny kitchen area shoved into the corner with a two-burner stove, a mini fridge that hummed louder than it should, and about two feet of counter space. The bathroom was through a door so narrow I had to turn sideways to get my boxes through. But it had a window, a decent sized one that looked out onto the street below, letting in natural light that made the beige walls look slightly less dep

Natalie’s apartment building was nicer than mine, not even close. There was a doorman in the lobby, an elevator that actually worked, and hallways that smelled like expensive candles instead of old cooking and mildew. Her place was on the eighth floor, a one bedroom with actual rooms instead of one sad space pretending to be everything. I stood outside her door for a full minute before I knocked, trying to steady my breathing and to prepare myself for whatever version of Natalie I was about to get. The disappointed one from the phone call, the broken one from the party, or maybe, hopefully, the real one, my best friend who knew me better than anyone. I knocked quite a few times before the door opened. Natalie stood there in her yoga pants and a crop top, her blonde hair up in a messy bun. She looked perfect, like she always did. Not a single sign that the last two days had affected her at all. “Hey,” she said, stepping back to let me in. “Hey.” I walked into her apartment

My first day at Rhode Enterprises started with me throwing up in my new bathroom.Nerves, mostly. And the cheap instant coffee I’d tried to choke down for breakfast. I brushed my teeth twice, gargled with mouthwash, and stared at my reflection in the spotty mirror.“You can do this,” I told myself. “It’s just a job. Just work. You’ve done this before.”Except I hadn’t. Not really. Working at my father’s company had been safe, comfortable. Everyone had known me. I’d had my little office, my routine, my place in the hierarchy.This was different. This was starting over from scratch in a building full of strangers who didn’t know about my birthday party or the divorce or any of it.Fresh start, I reminded myself. That’s what you wanted.I put on my most professional outfit, a navy dress and blazer that Natalie had helped me pick out over the weekend. Did my makeup carefully. Pulled my hair back in a sleek ponytail. Looked at myself one more time.Professional. Capable. Definitely not som