All Chapters of Too Late To Want Me Back, Ex-Husband!: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

SHAWNThe murmurs were a living thing now, wheezing past my ears. The people weren't even bothering to whisper anymore; they didn't care if I heard their judgment. Seeing Killian and my Elara together, they must have written me off completely, written my entire family off as a lost cause. That realization hurt, a sharp pain in my pride, but I had to push it aside. I needed the help of at least a third of the people in this room if the Lindays Group was to survive. However, the necessity of business didn't stop the blooming ache in my chest as more words clashed against my ears like stones thrown at a glass house. I saw my mother wincing beside me, her body jerking more than once as if she were being physically assaulted by the sheer weight of the room’s disdain."Look at him, still trying to play the big man with a hollow bank account.""The desperation is literally radiating off him—it’s pathetic.""He looks like a jilted puppy chasing a moving car.""Where is he even getting the

SHAWNThey were talking about me. I was sure of it. And from the calculative looks in their eyes, combined with the hardcore dread crawling up my spine—as if the humiliation I was already saddled with tonight wasn't enough—I knew the jewelry incident wasn't all they had for me. It wasn't all they had for my family tonight. My teeth gritted until my jaw ached as I looked at Elara. She was speaking to her father, or rather, agreeing to something he was saying, if the sharp, decisive nod was any indication. Was I to believe then that all this was the plan of her brothers, of her father? That would make sense. My Elara wouldn't do this to me; she wouldn't humiliate me this way, not after all we have been through. Her brothers and that opportunistic Killian were the ones pulling the strings. I just had to make Elara see it. I had to make her see that we still had a future, that it wasn't too late for us.“Mr. Lindays, please return to your seats… you are garnering much attention, whi

ELARAThe sight was better seen than imagined. Watching Shawn’s face contort at different angles, different expressions flashing across his features like a glitching screen—the most visible being sheer, soul-crushing disbelief—made every second of this drama worth it. His mouth hung open, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from me. There was a shimmering sheen in them now—real tears, finally—and I could see him trembling from across the room. I watched him with a hawk’s intensity, savoring the exact moment the realization struck: I wasn't the pawn he thought I was. I wasn't an asset to be traded by him or a tool to be wielded by my family. I was my own woman, the architect of my own life, and more importantly, the architect of his ruin. I threw him a cute, tilting smile, making sure the reality sank deep into his cerebrum before his ego could try to claw its way back to the surface. He gaped even further, and then, he laughed. It didn’t dampen my mood, though I was surpris

SHAWN“Who is that?” I sighed, my shoulders sagging, having no wish to talk at all. My head throbbed with the remnants of the gala's noise, and I just wanted to do what I came here to do—find some way to sleep and gather my wits together. Hopefully, Miranda hadn’t known or seen what had happened at the gala yet; I couldn't stomach another lecture on my failures. “Who is that?” she repeated, her voice sharp with a suspicion that set my teeth on edge. I sighed again, a loud, terrible thing, echoing in the hallway. There was a hole in the door for her to peep through and know exactly who stood there, so I couldn't understand the fuss. That should have been my first warning that there was fire on the mountain, but my nerves were too frayed by the complications of the night to pay attention to the signs. I just wanted to be inside.“Open the door, Miranda. It’s me,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. There was a hesitation—a second sign I ignored in my exhaustion.

ELARA“So, have you two lovebirds fixed a date for the main event? Which week?” my father asked, his voice booming with an easy joviality as soon as we entered a private suite on the top floor of the hall which had been used for the gala. Liam, heavens bless him, had led us through a separate hallway which led to a more private stairway, up to the top rooms above the hall, rooms that were off to the public. So, while the elite tinkered about downstairs, probably waiting for my return so they could continue their begging charade, I was in the safety of a private suite, only in the company of my family and Killian’s. The air here was thinner, quieter, stripped of the suffocating perfume and desperation of the crowd. And really, that’s all I could handle at the moment. I’ve seen enough chatter to last the rest of the week.“Uncle, I think we need some time to acquaint with ourselves,” Killian supplied earnestly, his tone smooth as silk, his hand sliding around my waist as if it always