All Chapters of After The Divorce: Ex-Husband Regrets And Begs Me: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

218 Chapters

Beautiful and Enormous

CELESTINE'S POV:I am seven and a half months pregnant and I am very enormous.That is the only word for it. Enormous. My belly sticks out so far that I cannot see my feet anymore. My ankles are swollen. My back aches constantly. I wake up three times a night to pee and every time I roll over in bed, it feels like I am moving a small planet.But I am also beautiful, but that is not my word. That is Lysander's word. He tells me every day, multiple times a day, in every possible way. He says it when I am struggling to tie my shoes and he helps me. He says it when I am eating ice cream straight from the carton at two in the morning. He says it when I am lying on the couch with my feet propped up and a heating pad on my lower back, looking like a beached whale."You are so ridiculous," I tell him."I am in love," he says. "Same thing."I laugh and pull him down for a kiss. He comes willingly, his hands finding my belly, his lips soft against mine. He kisses me like he has all the time in

I Am Your Simp

CELESTINE'S POV:He cries at ultrasound appointments.Every single one. The first one, when we saw the tiny flicker of a heartbeat. The second one, when we saw the outline of a head and a body and tiny little arms and legs. The third one, when the technician told us the baby was healthy and growing and everything looked perfect.He stands in the corner of the room, his hand over his mouth, his gray eyes wet."Mr. Ashcroft," the technician says, "are you okay?"He nods. He cannot speak.Lysander Ashcroft, the richest man in the world, the beast of the business world, the man who has made billionaires tremble with a single glance, is crying over an ultrasound image of his unborn child.I reach over and take his hand. His fingers close around mine."I love you," I say."I love you too," he says. His voice cracks.The technician smiles and pretends not to notice.***One night, lying in the dark, I cannot sleep.The baby is moving, full on kicks and rolls and stretches that make my bell

Six Months to Live

CELESTINE'S POV:Few Day Later I received a letter. The letter arrives on a Tuesday afternoon.I am in the nursery, folding tiny clothes and arranging them in the dresser that Lysander built with his own hands. He spent three weeks on it, sanding and staining and swearing under his breath, refusing to let anyone else touch it. The result is beautiful, solid and so aturdy.The baby is kicking. Hard. Insistent. Like they know something is coming.I hear the doorbell ring. Then footsteps. Then a soft knock on the nursery door."Ma'am Celestine," our housekeeper says through the wood. "There is a letter for you. It was delivered by hand."I set down the tiny onesie I have been folding. My hands are suddenly cold. My heart is suddenly loud in my ears."Leave it on the table," I say. "I will get it in a minute.""Yes, ma'am."Her footsteps fade. I stand in the middle of the nursery and I do not move. I know who sent that letter. I have known since the moment the housekeeper said "delivered

Nothing Left but Ash

CELESTINE'S POV:I read the letter three times.The first time, I read it for the words. The second time, I read it for the spaces between them. The third time, I read it to see if I could find any trace of the man I used to love, any echo of the person I thought he was.I do not find anything.There is no apology in this letter. There is no remorse. There is just a dying man trying to make himself feel better by saying words that he thinks I want to hear. He does not mention the baby. He does not mention the bunker. He does not mention the knife against my throat or the days of darkness or the way he slapped me across the face until my lip bled.He just says I am sorry and I hope you are happy and I hope Lysander deserves you.As if that makes up for everything.I set the letter down on the arm of the chair. My hands are still shaking. My heart is still pounding. But my face is dry. My eyes are dry. I am not crying. I do not think I can cry for Kier Thornwell anymore. I used up all m

Hello, My Child

CELESTINE'S POV:I go into labor at thirty nine weeks, on a Monday evening, just as the sun is setting over the valley.I am in the nursery, folding tiny clothes and arranging them in the dresser, when the first contraction hits. It is not the gentle tightening I have been feeling for weeks. It is a wave of pain that starts in my lower back and rolls through my entire body, leaving me breathless and clutching the edge of the dresser."Lysander," I call out. My voice is calm. Too calm. Like I am trying to convince myself that this is not happening.He appears in the doorway within seconds. His gray eyes are wide, his face pale, his hands already reaching for me."What is it my love? What is wrong?""Nothing is wrong. I think I am in labor."He stares at me with his mouth opens which he later closes."Now?""Yes right now.""But the baby is not due for another week.""The baby does not care about due dates."He springs into action. I have never seen him move so fast. He is on the phone

Sunset in Our Bedroom

CELESTINE'S POV:We name him Alistair.Not just Alistair. Alistair James Ashcroft Valancourt. His middle name is for my father, the man who never gave up on me. His last names are for both of us, for the families we have built and the future we are creating together.Alistair, after Kier's father, the only Thornwell who was ever kind to me. He made me promise to forgive his son a thousand times. I kept that promise. And now I am honoring his memory, the memory of the man who saw something in me that no one else saw.Lysander does not argue. He does not hesitate. He just looks at me and says, "He would be proud of you.""I hope so.""He would be proud of you. I am proud of you."I smile. I am holding our son. He is warm and heavy in my arms, his tiny fingers curled around mine, his eyes closed, his breathing soft and even."You waited for me," I say to Lysander. "The least I could do was give you a baby."He laughs. He leans down and kisses my forehead."Thank you," he says. "Thank you

What I Deserved

KIER'S POV:The prison hospital smells a lot like bleach and dirt that will make you want to vomit.That is the first thing I notice every morning when I open my eyes. The sharp, chemical smell of cleaners that cannot quite mask the underlying stench of sweat and sickness and fear. The second thing I notice is the pain. It is always there now, a constant presence in my bones, my blood, my organs. The cancer has spread. The doctors told me six months, but I think they were being optimistic.I have been in this bed for three weeks. I cannot remember the last time I stood up. I cannot remember the last time I ate solid food. I cannot remember the last time I felt anything except the slow, steady erosion of my body.I am dying.I am dying alone.No one comes to visit me. No one holds my hand. No one says goodbye. The guards bring me my meals and change my sheets and check my vitals. The nurses adjust my IV and give me painkillers that do not work. The doctors come and go, their faces neut

My Own Choices

KIER'S POV:But I still wanted her to come. I still wanted her to hold my hand. I still wanted her to tell me that she forgave me, that she understood, that she remembered the good days even if the bad days outweighed them.She did not come. She will not come. And I do not deserve her anyway.I think about Sable.That name still burns in my chest, even now, even at the end. Sable Morwenna. The woman who ruined my life. The woman who lied to me, used me, manipulated me. The woman who made me believe that her child was mine, that she loved me, that I had found someone who actually wanted me.I still remember the day she told me the truth. The way she stood in my doorway, a suitcase in one hand and jer baby in the other. The way she looked at me with cold eyes and a colder smile. The way she said, "The baby is not even yours. I pinned it on you because that's the only way to get a rich man like you and like a fool, you believed me."I killed her for that. I shot her in a warehouse and I

A Queen Without a Kingdom

VIVIENNE'S POV:Vivienne Thornwell sits in her empty mansion and stares at the pile of papers on the dining room table.They are everywhere. Legal documents. Bank statements. Eviction notices. The remains of an empire that took generations to build and less than a year to destroy. She has been sitting here for hours, her tea cold, her hands shaking, her mind refusing to accept what she already knows.The Thornwell fortune is gone.Her son's crimes took everything. The lawsuits, the legal fees, the settlements, the judgments. The company is bankrupt. The bank is foreclosing on the mansion. The investors have abandoned her. The board has voted her out. She has nothing left.She has filed for bankruptcy. Not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice. The workers were going to sue her. The partners were going to come after her. The only way to protect herself was to admit defeat, to lay down her arms, to accept that she had lost.The shame of it burns in her chest like a fire.

A Daughter Hidden in Wales

CELESTINE'S POV:Six months after Alistair is born, I receive a letter from Kier's lawyer.I almost throw it away.The envelope is sitting on the entryway table when I come downstairs one morning. White. Plain. My name written in careful, unfamiliar handwriting. No return address. No indication of who sent it or what it contains.I pick it up and I stare at it for a long moment. My first instinct is to burn it. My second instinct is to throw it in the trash without opening it. My third instinct is to hand it to Lysander and let him deal with it, the way he has dealt with everything else that has come from Kier's world.But something makes me open it.I slide my finger under the flap and tear it open. Inside is a single piece of paper, folded in thirds. And tucked behind it, a copy of a document that makes my blood run cold.A paternity test.I unfold the letter first. The handwriting is Kier's. I recognize it from the letter he sent me from prison, the one I burned in the fireplace. T

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