After The Divorce: Ex-husband's Regret의 모든 챕터: 챕터 61 - 챕터 70

Sophie blinked once, as if she hadn’t quite heard her correctly. The silence between them stretched, thin and brittle, before it snapped. “Your mother-in-law just insulted your sister,” she said, her voice rising a notch, sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of the television. “And you couldn’t say anything?” Ava didn’t shift. She didn’t rush to fill the space. Her fingers moved slowly over the fabric of her dress again, smoothing a crease that wasn’t there, her gaze steady on Sophie’s face. “She didn’t insult you,” Ava said after a moment, her tone even, almost gentle. “She corrected you.” Sophie let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Corrected me?” Ava tilted her head slightly. “Why were you asking him where he went?” The question landed softly, but it stayed there. Sophie’s smile faltered at the edges, just enough to notice if someone was paying attention. “And I’m doing that because of who?” she shot back. Ava’s brows drew together just a fraction. “Doing what, e

Sophie stepped in like she had been waiting for that exact moment.Her hands came together in a slow, deliberate clap.The sound echoed, sharp against the walls, cutting through whatever fragile thread had been holding the air together.A laugh followed, loud, unrestrained, the kind that didn’t ask for permission to exist.“Wow,” she said, dragging the word out as her gaze swept across them. “This is… far from amazing.”Matthew’s body went rigid.The warmth that had lingered between him and Isabella thinned, replaced by something colder, heavier. His hand dropped from where it had hovered uncertainly, his fingers curling slightly at his side.Isabella didn’t step back.She turned slowly, her attention settling on Sophie with a calm that felt almost deliberate.“What are you doing here?” Isabella asked.Her voice came out smooth, controlled, as though the interruption had been expected all along.Sophie tilted her head, her smile still in place, though it had sharpened at the edges.“I

Matthew didn’t move immediately. The word he had shouted still seemed to hang somewhere between him and the silence that followed, echoing faintly in the back of his head. On the other end, Sophie didn’t rush to fill it. When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped—lower, tighter, like he was forcing each word through something thick. “Spending every weekend with you is not possible.” A faint shift came through the line. Fabric, maybe. Or the sound of her adjusting her position, settling in deeper. “Is that so?” “Yes,” he said, sharper now. “Where exactly am I supposed to tell Ava I’m going every weekend?” Silence stretched. “And fifty thousand dollars every week?” he continued, pacing now, each step measured but restless. “That’s outrageous, Sophie. Where do you expect me to get that kind of money from?” A soft exhale came from her end. Unbothered. “That’s not my business.” Matthew stopped mid-step, his grip tightening around the phone. “What do you mean it’s not

Time did not move the way it usually did. It stretched and folded into itself. Ava stood in the hallway, her back close to the wall, her fingers still wrapped tightly around her phone. She hadn’t realized how hard she was gripping it until the edges began to press into her skin, a dull ache settling into her palm. Inside the room, the quiet had deepened. No more voices, just the faint rustle of movement. Ava’s chest rose slowly, unevenly. The air didn’t seem to settle properly in her lungs. Each breath felt shallow, like something inside her had forgotten how to do it fully. She swallowed. Her throat tightened in response. Then she heard footsteps approaching. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She pushed herself off the wall, her spine straightening, her face smoothing into something she didn’t recognize but knew she needed. Her hand dropped to her side, her grip loosening just enough. By the time the door opened, she was moving. Just enough to make it look

Morning came late for Matthew. The curtains had already given up most of their light, the room carrying that soft brightness that belonged to a day already in motion. He blinked against it, one arm shifting across the bed as he dragged himself out of sleep, his body heavy in a way that had nothing to do with rest. For a moment, he didn’t move. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the quiet pressing gently against him. Beside him, Ava hadn’t stirred. She lay on her side, facing away from him, her breathing slow and even, her hair falling loosely across the pillow. The space between them still existed, though sometime in the night it had softened—not closed, but less deliberate. Matthew pushed himself up, sitting at the edge of the bed, his hands resting briefly on his thighs as he exhaled. His head throbbed faintly. Not pain exactly, more like pressure. Like too many things had taken up space and refused to leave. He stood and walked to the bathroom, his steps unh