บททั้งหมดของ After The Divorce: Ex-husband's Regret: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Ava didn’t answer.She stood there in front of his desk, hands resting lightly against the edge, her nails pressing into the polished wood without her realizing it. Matthew watched her in that steady way of his — not blinking much, not moving much either. He had always known how to wait her out.When she stayed quiet, he nodded slowly.A small smile curved at the corner of his mouth.“You think I’m not handling the company well,” he said. “You think I’m embezzling money.”The word landed harder than it should have.Ava’s stomach tightened. “I didn’t say that.”“You didn’t have to.”His tone wasn’t raised. It was controlled.She looked away first.“I asked for files,” she said quietly.“All the files.”“Yes.”“And you asked where I was.”“I was curious.”“You were suspicious.”She swallowed. The air felt thinner. “Matthew—”“What are you looking for, Ava?”She opened her mouth and closed it.He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, studying her as if she were a c

The ride back to the office was quieter, but not like before.Matthew drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear, close enough that his knuckles brushed her thigh whenever he shifted. He didn’t move it away.Ava pretended not to notice.The restaurant had softened something between them. Or maybe it had simply peeled back the sharp edges. He had listened to her. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes on her mouth when she spoke. When she told him about the time he tried to assemble a crib without reading the manual and ended up with three leftover screws, he had laughed—head tipping back, that same unguarded sound she used to love.“I don’t look like the kind of man who ignores manuals,” he had said, smiling.“You absolutely are,” she replied.“Was I at least confident about it?”“Painfully.”He had shaken his head. “God. You married that?”“I did.”Now, back at the office, he parked and turned to her.“Nothing is pressing on,” he said. “We could stay and

Morning came softly. It came with warmth. Ava felt it first, the warmth at her back. A solid weight draped over her waist. Fingers resting low on her stomach, relaxed, possessive even in sleep. She didn’t open her eyes immediately. She just lay there, breathing. Matthew was there, his breath fanned lightly against the back of her neck. Careful, she shifted just enough to glance at the clock. 6:17 a.m. He never slept past six. She turned slightly, studying his face in the early light. The faint crease between his brows. The way his lashes rested against his skin. Younger, somehow. Less guarded. Her chest tightened. She memorized it. Just in case. Then she slept back. When she woke up again, the warmth was gone. The bed felt bigger instantly and colder. She sat up too fast. The bathroom light was off. The closet door was open and empty. Her stomach dropped. Of course, he would go to work. Last night had been… last night. Reality always came in the morning. She wrapped the

Matthew didn’t look up immediately when the door opened. He knew that perfume. He finished signing the document in front of him, placed the pen down neatly, then lifted his eyes. Isabella stood by the door. Short skirt, silk blouse cut lower than necessary. He noticed it the way a hungry man notices food. She closed the door quietly behind her. “Did she answer?” he asked. Isabella’s lips curved slowly. “Oh, she answered.” He leaned back in his chair. “And?” “She was polite. Grateful, even.” A low chuckle escaped him. “Of course she was.” Isabella walked closer, heels clicking softly against the marble floor. “She said thank you for being respectful.” Matthew shook his head, amused. “She always needs to believe the best version of people.” Isabella stopped in front of his desk. “Especially you.” He stood up then, adjusting his cuffs. “Did she hesitate?” “A little,” Isabella said. “But when I mentioned you told me to call her first…” His mouth tilted faintly. “That w

Matthew didn’t set an alarm. Ava knew because she woke before him and the room was still dim, the curtains breathing softly with the morning air, and he was still there. Gw wasn't dressed. He was on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other resting across the mattress like he’d reached for her in his sleep and never quite found her. She lay on her side and watched him. She traced the line of his shoulder with her eyes. The scar near his collarbone. The faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He stirred. His hand moved, brushing her waist. “You’re staring again,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. Ava didn’t pretend. “You didn’t set your alarm.” He opened one eye, then the other. “I’m not going to work.” She blinked. “Are you sick?” He huffed softly. “Do I look sick?” She hesitated. “You look… nothing.” That made him fully awake. He rolled onto his side, facing her. Their knees touched under the sheets. “I’m traveling this weekend,” he said quietly. “So