After The Divorce: Ex-husband's Regret의 모든 챕터: 챕터 91 - 챕터 100

The car rolled into the driveway slower than usual, the tires crunching lightly against the gravel as Matthew guided it to a stop. He did not turn off the engine immediately. His hands remained on the steering wheel, fingers curved around it without pressure, his gaze fixed ahead at the house that looked exactly as it always had. He exhaled slowly, then reached for the door. The engine died behind him as he stepped out. The air carried a faint stillness, the kind that lingered after something had already happened and left no visible trace. He shut the door, the sound sharper than it should have been in the quiet. Then, footsteps approached and he turned. Sophie was walking up the driveway, her pace quick but controlled, her expression set in a way that told him she had already been thinking too much before she even got there. For a second, neither of them spoke. Then she stopped a few steps away, her eyes moving over him, searching for something specific. “You look worse th

Ava closed the bedroom door behind her with a quiet push, the latch settling into place without sound. The house had already gone still for the night, but the silence here carried a different weight, one that pressed against her the moment she stepped further in.She did not turn on the main light. Only the bedside lamp.A soft glow spread across the room, catching the edges of unfamiliar things she had not touched in the room. The wardrobe. The chair near the window. The neatly made bed she had not slept in since she arrived.For a moment, she stood there, her hand still resting on the door as though she had not fully decided to enter.Then she moved.Her phone lay on the bedside table where she had left it earlier, screen dark, untouched. She picked it up, her fingers hovering briefly before pressing the power button.The screen lit up. Notifications filled it.Missed calls. Messages. The same name repeated over and over again.Her gaze rested on it longer than she intended.The fir

The building looked the same. Glass catching the morning light, reflecting a sky that had not changed for him or anyone else. Employees moved in and out through the revolving doors, their conversations low, purposeful, and ordinary in a way that felt almost disconcerting. Matthew stepped out of the car and stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze fixed on the entrance. He had walked through those doors countless times. Never once with hesitation. Today, his steps slowed. Something closer to resistance, as though the space ahead no longer recognized him the way it used to. He adjusted his jacket, a habitual motion, fingers brushing over the lapel before dropping to his side. Then he moved. The lobby doors slid open smoothly. Cool air met him immediately, carrying the faint scent of polished floors and quiet efficiency. Conversations continued around him, but they changed, barely perceptible, the way people adjusted without wanting it to be obvious. Mat

Ava’s knees pressed into the rug, the fibers rougher than they looked, catching lightly against her skin through the thin fabric of her jeans. Light slipped through the wide windows, not filtered by thin curtains but by heavier drapes pulled halfway aside. It settled across the room in quiet patches, catching the pale wood of the crib, the neatly arranged shelves, and the small stack of folded blankets waiting in the corner.Ava rested one hand on the floor to steady herself, the other coming instinctively to her stomach, fingers spreading slightly as though she could hold everything in place just by touch.“You’re going to like it here,” she murmured, her voice low, almost private. “It’s quiet. No one will disturb you.”Her thumb moved absently against the curve beneath her palm.“You’ll sleep better here,” she added, softer now.Behind her, the faint sound of a bag being set down broke through the stillness.Grace stood near the doorway, one hand braced lightly against the frame, w

The glow from the laptop screen washed over Matthew’s face, pale and unforgiving, tracing the exhaustion that had settled into his features. His eyes burned, the edges reddened, lids heavy but unwilling to close. The cursor blinked steadily on the screen, indifferent to the hours he had spent staring at variations of the same thing.Search results. Dead ends. Fragments that led nowhere.He leaned back slightly, one hand dragging down his face, fingers pressing into his eyes as though he could force clarity out of fatigue.The sound of movement from the kitchen reached him before Sophie appeared. Plates touching the counter. Cutlery placed with quiet precision. The faint hiss of something cooling.Then her footsteps.She stopped at the edge of the living room, watching him for a moment before speaking.“Breakfast is ready.”Matthew did not look up. His fingers moved across the keyboard again, scrolling, clicking, opening another tab that mirrored the last.“I am not hungry.”Sophie re