All Chapters of The Chubby Wife's Revenge.: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Nathaniel.The door closed behind Blake, and I remained seated behind my desk, staring at the space she had just occupied.For eight years I had imagined this moment—what it would feel like to see her again. I had pictured anger, tears, accusations. I had rehearsed the explanation I would finally give her. But I had never imagined her walking out of my office still wearing the promise ring I had given her.My eyes dropped to the file on my desk.*Blake Morgan.*I had spent years trying not to think about her. Now she was back, and she had questions I owed her answers to.I glanced at the time. Amelia would be expecting me home. She had watched me leave that morning with a smile and told me to go to work, completely unaware that I would spend part of the day sitting across from the woman I had once loved before her.Guilt settled heavily in my chest. I knew I had to deal with this before it became something I could no longer control.Blake deserved an explanation. I had promised her o

Amelia.I waited until Nathaniel’s breathing settled into the deep, even rhythm of sleep before opening my eyes. I had been pretending for almost an hour.He lay beside me with one arm wrapped around my waist, his body warm against mine. He had not fallen asleep immediately either. I had felt him shift several times, sensed the tension still lingering in him even when neither of us spoke. But now he was asleep, and I remained awake.For a long time I stared into the darkness. Those three words kept returning to me.*I don’t know.*I don’t know if I still have feelings for her.I had told him the answer sounded honest, and it had. That was the problem. I had asked Nathaniel a question, and he had given me the truth. It was not the answer I wanted, but after everything we had been through, after all the secrets and the things we had both been forced to confront, I knew better than anyone that hiding something never made it disappear. So I had listened. I had let him tell me about Blake,

BlakeThe next morning, I woke before the alarm. For a few seconds, I lay still, staring at the hotel ceiling. Then I smiled.Nathaniel had been affected.I had seen it in his eyes the night before. He had tried to hide it, but Nathaniel had never been particularly good at hiding things from me.Not when he was in love with me.And he had been very much in love with me.I reached for my phone.No new messages from him, only one from the company confirming my employment.I smiled and dropped the phone back, not bothering to read the employment letter. Though I hadn't expected any message from him, I couldn't help but wonder if he had thought about me all through the night. Of course I didn't expect him to jump right into my arms just because I suddenly showed up. Nathaniel would need time. He had always needed time whenever a situation involved hurting someone. He could face problems, family crises, and difficult decisions without flinching. But when he believed someone had suffere

Blake.Two weeks. That was how long I had been working at Vaughn Holdings. Fourteen days of arriving on time, doing my job, smiling at coworkers, and pretending I had accepted the fact that Nathaniel Vaughn wanted nothing to do with me.It would have been easier if he had shouted at me, ordered security to throw me out, or looked me in the eyes and told me he hated me.At least then I would have known I still had the power to make him feel something. Instead, he had done something far worse. He had stayed away.I hadn’t seen him once since the night we had dinner together. Every excuse I found to pass by the executive floor ended the same way. Mr. Vaughn isn’t here. I think he’s at headquarters. He left early this morning. He has meetings off-site. After the first week, I stopped asking. Not because I had given up, but because I didn’t want anyone wondering why I was so interested in the company’s owner.Patience. That was what this required. Nathaniel had always been predictable. Whe

Nathaniel.I woke before the alarm.The room was still dim, the heavy curtains holding back the first pale edge of morning. Amelia slept against me, one hand curled loosely near her face, the other resting over the gentle curve of her stomach. Her breathing was deep and even. I lay still for a long time, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. The soft scent of her skin mixed with the faint trace of the shirt she wore—my shirt—and something inside me settled and hardened at the same time.Yesterday’s black bag. The gold logo. The card with Blake’s handwriting. The bottle of cologne that had once been mine and now felt like a deliberate intrusion.I had thrown it away. The gesture had been immediate and final. But the violation remained.Amelia had said she was not angry with me. She had held my hand and told me the problem was Blake’s lack of respect for boundaries. She had meant it. I knew she had. Yet the quiet way she had looked at the card, the way her smile had vanished, st