All Chapters of Goodbye Ex, I Married Your Uncle!: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

LILA’S POVBy the end of my first week at Tra Que, I had learned three things.One, Anita Tran did not believe in hand-holding.Two, business crises did not wait politely for anyone to feel ready.And three… I loved it.I liked listening to a problem and slowly finding its root. I liked watching Anita turn chaos into clear, practical steps. I liked realizing that leadership was not some magical trait people were born with, but a muscle you can train.That morning, the whole team was gathered in the main meeting room. On the table were samples of Tra Que’s holiday products: cinnamon chocolate, spiced coffee cans, ginger cookies, lotus chips, and little tins of cardamom, clove, nutmeg, and star anise.One of Anita’s marketing employees, Clara, pushed a mockup across the table.“I think we should release a Christmas recipe book,” she said. “Ways to use our spices, chocolates, coffee, all of it.”Anita picked up the mockup and flipped through it.The room went quiet.I watched her face ca

LILA’S POVThe doorbell rang while I was upstairs.I was sitting cross-legged on my bed with my laptop open, working on the recipe book Anita had entrusted to me. The bell rang again.Then I heard movement downstairs. Footsteps. A low voice. The front door opening.I expected one of the staff to handle it, so I continued working. I was trying to decide whether the Christmas recipe book needed five sections or six when I heard crying.My hands stilled over the keyboard.For a moment, I sat there listening. Then I closed my laptop halfway and got up.By the time I reached the stairs, the crying had softened, but not stopped. I moved down carefully, one hand on the railing, and looked toward the living room.Adrian was sitting on the couch.A woman was in his arms.She was blonde, slightly short, and folded into him like she had nowhere else in the world to stand. Her face was pressed against his shoulder, and his arm was wrapped around her back while his other hand rested gently on her

LILA’S POVMy heart was beating so hard it felt painful, but I refused to let anyone see that. Not here. Not in Tra Que’s glass conference room, where anyone passing by could look in and see my personal life falling apart again.I took a breath and looked at Jason. “We’ll talk. But not here.”His eyes narrowed. “Where?”“Outside,” I said. “I’m not creating a scene in my workplace.”For a second, I thought he might argue. Then he nodded.I turned to Luke. “It’s okay.”Luke’s expression said he disagreed.“Lila—”“I’ll be right outside,” I said gently. “I promise.”He looked between Jason and me, then gave a reluctant nod. “I’ll be close.”Jason scoffed, but I ignored him.As we walked through the office, I kept my face calm. People glanced up from their desks. A few smiled politely. No one knew that my stomach was twisting with every step.Your husband isn’t what he seems.What had Jason found?I led him to a small bench near the side of the building, partly hidden by potted palms an

ADRIAN’S POV“Goodbye, Adrian.”For a moment, I could not move. Lila stood in front of me with tears on her face, her shoulders straight, her eyes full of pain I had put there. She looked smaller than she should have in the middle of that hallway, but not weak.“Lila,” I said quietly. “Don’t go.”She turned away.I followed before I could stop myself. “Please. Stay. We can talk about this properly.”“There’s nothing to talk about.”“There is everything to talk about.”She kept walking toward the stairs.I stepped in front of her without touching her. “I made a mistake. I should have told you. I know that now.”She looked up at me, eyes shining. “You only know it because I found out.”I deserved that.“I was going to tell you tonight.”She gave a broken little laugh. “That makes it worse.”“Lila—”“No,” she said. “You don’t get to explain it until it sounds reasonable.”I wanted to argue. God help me, I wanted to say everything at once. But nothing I’d say would help my cause, because

LILA’S POVTHREE YEARS LATER The first thing I heard on my wedding morning was Ellen crying.Not loudly… just soft sniffles from the corner of the bridal suite, where she stood with a tissue pressed under her eyes and a glass of champagne untouched in her other hand.“Aunt Ellen,” I said, turning away from the mirror. “If you start, I’ll start.”“I’m not starting,” she said quickly, then sniffed again. “I’m just breathing emotionally.”That made the whole room laugh.My bridesmaids were fussing with flowers, earrings, perfume, the veil, the little emergency kit no one needed but everyone kept opening anyway. The suite overlooked the gardens of Ambrosia’s oldest hotel, the first property Adrian’s father had ever bought before the company became a global name.It had been Adrian’s idea to marry here.“This place started everything for my family,” he’d told me. “It should witness the start of ours properly.”Properly.That word had stayed with me.The first time we got married, I had w