บททั้งหมดของ After The Divorce: Ex-husband's Regret: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Morning arrived slowly. Ava had not slept so much as drifted in and out of a restless quiet where every thought returned to the same place. When the alarm finally sounded, the thin gray light filtering through the curtains had already begun to stretch across the bedroom floor. She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Her body felt heavy, the kind of heaviness that follows a night where the mind never truly rests. A faint pressure lingered behind her eyes. She lifted a hand and pressed her fingertips briefly against her temple before letting out a long breath. Across the room, the closet door stood slightly open. Ava pushed the blanket aside and sat up slowly. The house remained silent. Matthew had not called during the night. His side of the bed stayed smooth and undisturbed, the pillow still carrying the faint indentation from the last time he had slept there. She glanced at it once before turning away. The morning routine moved quietly. She showered and made coffe

Morning light spilled through the thin curtains of the service apartment, pale and quiet, stretching across the wooden floor in long rectangles. The place still carried the faint warmth of the night before—rumpled couch cushions, the soft scent of coffee beginning to rise from the kitchen.Matthew leaned back against the arm of the sofa, one ankle resting over his knee. His shirt hung loosely over yesterday’s jeans, sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. From where he sat, he could see Sophie moving around the small kitchen.She stood by the stove, her hair tied loosely at the back of her neck, a few strands falling against her cheek each time she leaned forward to check the pan. The rhythm of her movements felt strangely domestic—plates being set down, the soft clink of cutlery, the quiet scrape of a chair pulled toward the table.Matthew watched for a moment.“You planning to open a restaurant in here?” he asked casually.Sophie glanced over her shoulder, a small smile tugging at h

The office had grown quieter as the morning stretched toward noon. Ava remained seated behind Matthew’s desk, her phone lying face-up beside her hand. Every few minutes her eyes drifted toward the door, then back to the screen, then to the safe across the room. The small metal box sat beside the water dispenser as it had always belonged there. But Ava knew better. She had walked this office floor thousands of times. Knew the exact position of every cabinet, every chair, every scratch in the wood paneling. The safe was new. Her fingers tapped softly against the desk. Daniel had said he was coming. She checked the time again. Fifteen minutes passed. Then another ten. A soft knock finally came from the door. Ava straightened slightly. “Come in.” The door opened slowly. Daniel stepped inside with the same calm, steady presence she remembered. He looked slightly older than the last time she had seen him—maybe a little more tired around the eyes—but the easy warmth in his expre

The café was quiet in the late afternoon.It was the quiet that came from soft music and people speaking in low voices, the clink of porcelain cups blending gently with the hum of an espresso machine somewhere behind the counter.Ava chose a table near the window.The sunlight fell across the wooden surface in warm stripes, touching the rim of her untouched coffee and the leather folder resting beside it.She had arrived early.Waiting had always been easier than rushing.Her fingers rested lightly on the folder.Inside it were the photocopied files.Every few seconds her gaze drifted toward the entrance.The door opened, closed, and opened again.Ava’s shoulders stayed still, but the rhythm of her breathing shifted.Then the door opened once more.This time the man who stepped inside paused just slightly, scanning the café.Mid-forties. Dark suit and calm posture.When his eyes landed on her, he inclined his head politely and walked over.“Ava Taylor.”His voice carried quiet recogni

Matthew’s hand had already reached the door. The cool metal handle pressed into his palm as he twisted it slightly. The hallway outside lay quiet, the muted hotel lights slipping through the small gap as the door opened a fraction. “I should go,” he said, his voice low. Behind him, the bed shifted. Isabella sat upright, the soft sheets sliding down her legs as she watched his back. For a second, she didn’t speak. Her eyes traced the rigid line of his shoulders, the tension in his neck, the way his fingers lingered on the door as though he were forcing himself to leave. “You’re serious?” she said finally. Matthew didn’t turn. “I’ve been gone too long already." He opened the door a little wider. The soft click echoed in the room. Before he could step out, the mattress creaked again. Quick movement and bare feet against the carpet. Then fingers wrapped around his wrist. Matthew froze. “Where do you think you’re going?” Isabella asked quietly. He glanced down at her hand, g