After The Divorce: Ex-husband's Regret의 모든 챕터: 챕터 71 - 챕터 80

The documents in front of Matthew blurred long before he realized he had stopped reading them. Columns of numbers stretched across the page, neat and precise, but they refused to settle into meaning. His pen hovered above the paper, unmoving, the tip resting just close enough to leave a faint mark without intention. Across the room, the clock ticked. Matthew leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he dragged a hand down his face—the conversation from earlier resurfaced, unwelcome and persistent. She’s in the bathroom. The man’s voice had carried no hesitation. Matthew’s jaw tightened as he sat up again, his fingers tapping once against the desk before stilling. “This doesn’t add up,” he muttered under his breath. He reached for the file again, flipping a page as though determination alone might force his mind to cooperate. But it didn’t. Numbers slipped past him. Words blurred. Isabella’s voice threaded through the noise. You don’t need to worry about it. His

Morning settled into the house with a quiet kind of certainty, the kind that didn’t ask permission before it arrived. Ava woke before the alarm. Her eyes opened slowly, not from rest, but from the weight of thoughts that had refused to loosen through the night. For a moment, she remained still. She listened to the faint rustle of movement. Closet doors and fabric shifting. She turned her head slightly. He stood near the wardrobe, already dressed, his back to her as he adjusted his cufflinks with careful precision. The suitcase lay open on the bed, neatly packed—her work from the night before, every item folded and placed with attention she hadn’t been able to give her own thoughts. Ava pushed herself up, the sheets falling softly around her as she sat. “You’re ready already,” she said, her voice carrying the softness of sleep, though her eyes were clear. Matthew glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to rush.” She nodded, slipping out of bed. “I’ll get dressed.” He watc

For a while, Ava remained exactly where she was.The glass doors behind her reflected a version of herself that looked composed enough to pass for certainty. People moved past her without paying attention—heels clicking, phones pressed to ears, laughter slipping through passing conversations—and yet she stood still, as though stepping forward required more than just motion.Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag, then loosened.A breath settled in her chest, deeper this time, as something quiet but insistent began to take shape in her mind.Ava turned and walked into the office again. The movement was slow at first, almost hesitant, but by the time her heels carried her back toward the entrance, there was something steadier in her stride.Inside, the air felt different now.The earlier tension had dispersed into smaller pockets of whispered conversations and speculative glances. A few staff members lingered in corners, their voices low, their curiosity barely concealed.When M

By the time Ava stepped out of the airport, the weight in her body had settled into something deeper than tiredness.It dragged at her shoulders, at the way she held her neck, at the slow pull of each step as she wheeled her luggage behind her.The sky hung low, heavy with clouds that hadn’t decided yet whether to hold or break.She paused just outside the terminal, scanning the line of cars pulling in and out, drivers leaning against doors.Ava walked on. Her grip tightened on the handle of her cart as she stepped further out, away from the noise, like distance might make things quieter inside her head.The first drop of rain landed on her wrist.She stilled.Another followed, then another. Within seconds, the sky gave in.Rain came down fast, heavy, the kind that didn’t ease into anything, just arrived all at once like it had been waiting.Ava exhaled under her breath and looked around quickly.No cover, no shelter close enough.People scattered, some running back toward the termina

The first thing that came back was the sound. A steady, rhythmic beeping that cut through the heaviness in her head, threading itself into her awareness before anything else could settle. Ava’s lashes fluttered. Light pressed faintly against her closed eyes brightly. Her fingers shifted against the sheets. The contrast hit before the memory did. Her brows drew together slightly as her eyes opened, slowly, the ceiling above her coming into view in fragments. She inhaled, and the air was different. Her gaze moved, sluggish at first, dragging across the room until it found a figure seated beside the bed. For a moment, Ava only stared, her mind lagging behind what her eyes had already registered. Then her throat tightened. “Who…?” Her voice came out rough, barely holding shape. She swallowed, trying again. “Who are you?” The woman straightened slightly in her chair, relief flickering across her face before she smoothed it down. “You’re awake.” Ava’s fingers curled