All Chapters of Ex-Husband Forgot Ever Divorcing Me: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

MONIQUEMaxwell stayed buried inside me for a long moment, his chest rising and falling hard against mine. The aftershocks still fluttered through my body in small, involuntary pulses. Every tiny movement—every slight shift of his hips, every breath he took—made me flinch. My inner walls kept clenching around him without permission, as if my body refused to let go of the first orgasm he had forced out of me.He lifted his head slowly. His eyes were dark, almost feverish, as if the fog in his mind had thinned just enough for him to feel everything more sharply. There was something raw in the way he looked at me, something that made my stomach twist.“You’re still shaking,” he murmured.Before I could answer, before I could gather enough strength to push him away or demand space, he carefully rolled us over. The motion was controlled, mindful of the life growing inside me, but it still made him sink even deeper. A broken, high-pitched sound tore out of my throat the second the new angle

MONIQUEI must have drifted off again after the morning haze of skin and low voices and careful hands.When I woke the second time, exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. My limbs felt heavy, my mind slow. For a few disoriented seconds I simply lay there, staring at the familiar ceiling of the master bedroom, trying to gather the scattered pieces of myself.Then the nausea hit.It rose sharp and sudden from the pit of my stomach, the unmistakable wave of morning sickness that had become my unwelcome companion these past weeks. I swallowed hard, pressing a hand lightly over my still-flat abdomen as if I could will it to settle.Beside me, the bed was empty.I turned my head. The space where Maxwell had been was already cold. The sheets held no lingering warmth, no indentation deep enough to suggest he had only just left. Something heavy twisted low in my chest at the sight. I frowned at the feeling, then deliberately swallowed it down.I didn’t want to think about it.I didn’t want

MONIQUEMaxwell’s hand remained steady against my back even after I finished rinsing my mouth. The cool washcloth still rested at the nape of my neck, damp and soothing against skin that still felt too warm. His presence filled the small bathroom—solid, quiet, and far too familiar. The quiet concern in his posture made the air between us feel heavier than it should have, thick with something I refused to name.I became aware—too aware—of how easily I had let him step in. How naturally I had leaned into the support of his arm when my legs felt unsteady. How I hadn’t immediately pulled away when he started taking care of me as if the months of distance and damage between us had never existed. As if he still had the right to hover this close when I was vulnerable.The realization made something inside me go still and cold.I straightened carefully and stepped out of his reach, putting deliberate space between our bodies. The loss of his warmth registered more sharply than I wanted it to.

MAXWELLI didn’t push it.When Monique turned away from me this morning, when she shut down every offer of care with that flat, careful voice, I let her. Even though my hands itched to pull her back against my chest. Even though every part of me wanted to bury my face in her neck and remind her—again—what her body already knew.I had already been inside her. Deep. Twice. She could deny the meaning of it all she wanted, but her body had already given me the truth she refused to speak. That was enough for now.So I let her go to the garden. I let her reject the breakfast I made. I stayed out of her way.Soon enough, she would need me again. I would make sure of it.I didn’t eat either.Not because I was angry that she refused the food. The emptiness in my stomach had nothing to do with pride. I simply had no appetite. Looking at the untouched plates only made something hollow twist in my chest—an instinct I couldn’t name. Like I had always eaten breakfast across from her. Like the silen

CHELSEADenver and I decided how we were going to tell the ex-couple that they weren’t actually legally divorced yet.Denver promised he would be the one to tell Maxwell. Which was fine. Especially since that man was his friend.I just hoped it wouldn’t become the reason Maxwell’s confidence grew enough for him to want Monique back.If I had to manipulate and influence her, then I would. It was for her sake.I texted Monique to meet me at the mall.I wanted to take her shopping—aside from being the one to tell her the truth about her and Maxwell.I would try not to blame Denver too much, even though I was itching to, because it had already happened and the past couldn’t be undone.After I finished with my last patient at the clinic, I took off my white coat. I grabbed my bag and reminded Sarah to lock up before she left.I drove to the nearest mall and sat on the balcony, waiting for Mon.I pulled out my phone and saw Denver’s new message.My lips twitched.He found my number. He said