Semua Bab The Chubby Wife's Revenge.: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Nathaniel.My phone vibrated just as I finished reviewing the last contract on my desk.One message from Amelia.It's done.I smiled before I could stop myself—no explanation, no fanfare—just three quiet words that carried the weight of months.Months of her rebuilding herself. Months of learning to trust her own voice again. I typed back immediately.Congratulations, CEO Amelia.The reply came almost at once. Stop calling me that.My smile widened. Never.A typing bubble appeared, vanished, then returned. You're impossible.And you won anyway.This time her response took longer. Thank you.The simplicity of it landed deep. I knew what lived behind those two words—relief, disbelief, pride, and the quiet grief that sometimes walks beside victory. I sent one more message.I never doubted you.Her answer came after a pause. I'm looking forward to seeing you.The confidence in those words settled warm in my chest.Good. Because I'm waiting for you.Why?I glanced at the garment bag hanging

Amelia.The office still smelled like fresh paint—not from a full renovation, but from the hurried minor changes someone had made over the weekend. They’d replaced the artwork, removed personal effects, and prepared the space for its new occupant. For me.I stood just inside the doorway, staring at the office that had once belonged to Daniel. My office now. The thought still felt strange, even as the floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city below and morning sunlight spilled across the polished desk, turning glass and steel into something almost ethereal.Barely a year ago, this room would have intimidated me. Today, it didn't. My assistant followed. “Good morning, Ms. Vaughn.”I smiled. “Please don’t sound so nervous.”Her shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry.”“Don’t be. It’s my first day too.” That earned a genuine laugh, and the tension in the room eased.I set my bag on the desk and scanned the morning schedule—meetings, introductions, financial reviews, and a mountain of responsibil

Daniel. After work on Friday, I stopped at a flower shop and sent Amelia a bouquet.The flowers came back on Saturday morning.I stood at the kitchen island long after the delivery driver had left, staring at the arrangement of white lilies. The same flowers Amelia had always loved. The same ones I used to bring home in the early years of our marriage, when making her smile had been the simplest, most natural thing in the world.The card was still tucked between the stems.Congratulations, Amelia.Nothing more. No apology. No explanation. No acknowledgment of the past. Just those two words. And somehow the bouquet had still found its way back to me, untouched and unwanted.I picked up the card and read it again, as if the words might change. They didn’t. The lilies looked exactly as they had when I sent them—pristine, elegant, and now rejected. I should have expected it after everything that had happened. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, feeling something heavy and unpleasant s

Amelia.Monday mornings used to fill me with quiet dread. Now they have a purpose.I was halfway through a dense financial report when I glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty. The perfect moment. I picked up the phone. “Can you ask Mr. Carter to come to my office?”A brief pause on the line. “Of course, Ms. Vaughn.”I set the receiver down and returned to the numbers on my screen, but the words on the screen blurred. My pulse had already begun its steady climb.Ten minutes later, a crisp knock broke the silence.“Come in.”Daniel stepped inside. His eyes found mine instantly, searching. For a heartbeat, neither of us spoke. Then he noticed the closed door behind him, and something dangerously hopeful flickered across his face.I hated how easily I still recognized that look.“Have a seat.”He lowered himself into the chair opposite my desk, his posture careful, almost reverent.“You wanted to see me?”“Yes.” I folded my hands on the polished wood, keeping my voice even. “This won’t take

Daniel. I should have felt better after the meeting. At the very least, relieved. The conversation was over. Amelia had said what she needed to say. Boundaries had been drawn. There was no more confusion.Instead, I felt worse.I sat alone in my office long after she had dismissed me, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city below. People moved through the streets. Cars crawled through traffic. Life continued. Mine felt strangely frozen in place.My reflection stared back at me from the glass, and Amelia’s voice echoed in my head once more.Your apology won’t bring back our son.The words sat heavily in my chest—not because they were cruel, but because they were true. I had spent weeks convincing myself that admitting I was wrong would matter. That if she could just see how sorry I was, something would shift. Instead, she had looked at me with calm, steady eyes and reminded me that some things could never be fixed.I rubbed a hand across my face. Another memory surfaced r