All Chapters of Divorced by the Hockey Captain: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Bradley’s POVI returned home to the penthouse.It wasn't because I wanted to be there. Wasn't because it brought me a shred of comfort, but because I had nowhere else left to go. The massive apartment felt colder and wider than ever before, the modern interior looking like a sterile tomb under the dim evening lights.I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think clearly. Every single corner of every single room screamed her name, forcing me to confront the ghost of a woman I had willingly pushed away.Then, as I walked aimlessly past the foyer, my eyes landed on the wall-mounted home security tablet.The penthouse had interior cameras installed years ago after a burglary attempt in our building. I had completely forgotten they were even running. They were just part of the background, quietly backing up footage to a secure cloud server every single day.I stood there in the quiet hallway, staring at the sleek black screen. A strange, sudden thought hit me, making my throat go bone dry.How much

Tabitha's POVThe first thing I heard every single morning was silence.No distant chime from the private penthouse elevator sliding open. No blaring audio from the morning sports center highlights recapping last night's game. No low grind of the espresso machine, and no sound of Bradley humming absentmindedly to himself while pulling his tie tight in front of the mirror.Just... silence.I slowly opened my eyes, staring up at the plain, white plaster ceiling above me. The unfamiliar room instantly reminded me of my new reality. This tiny, humble apartment was my home now.====I sat up carefully, supporting my lower back as I swung my legs over the side of the narrow mattress.pain hurt much less now. The deep purple bruises from the car crash had faded into faint yellow shadows across my legs, and the angry red scrapes on my arms had finally closed up into smooth skin. But despite the surface healing, my OB-GYN had made it crystal clear that I was still under strict, non-negotiable

Bradley's POVThree days.No leads. No phone calls. No sightings. Nothing.I had spent seventy-two hours staring at the exact same walls, staring at the same disconnected phone screen, waiting for the universe to magically fix what I had broken. But reality didn't work like that. Tabitha wasn't going to turn around and walk back through the front door of the penthouse, and Ava was never going to call me back to give me her blessing.I had reached a conclusion I never in my life imagined I would face. I needed professional help.Not my corporate lawyer. Not my personal security team. I needed someone whose entire career was built around finding people who specifically did not want to be found.====Marcus handed me a business card over my desk the next morning. Plain white cardstock, minimalist black text. No flashy logos.Daniel Hayes. Private Investigations."He's a former homicide detective," Marcus explained, leaning against my desk with his hands shoved into his pockets. "Twenty-f

Bradley's POVI hadn't visited my parents' estate in nearly three weeks.Under normal circumstances, my mother would have left half a dozen passive-aggressive voicemails complaining about my lack of family duty. Today, there were no voicemails. There was only a single, terse text message sent from her personal assistant at seven in the morning: Your mother expects you for morning tea at ten sharp.She hadn't asked. She had summoned me.As I pulled my SUV up the long, winding driveway toward the estate, I already knew who had leaked the dam. Marcus. My lawyer had clearly seen me spiraling into a total wreck and had taken it upon himself to call in the big guns.====The Norwood estate looked, as it always did, sickeningly perfect.The manicured lawns were trimmed to exact millimeters, the security staff stood at rigid attention by the wrought-iron gates, and the sprawling stone mansion was enveloped in a suffocating, heavy silence.I found my mother, Eleanor Norwood, waiting for me in

Tabitha's POVThe hardest part of my new life wasn't the quiet loneliness anymore. I had slowly learned to adapt to the silent rooms and the slow-moving afternoon hours.The hardest part was feeling useless.Every single morning, I sat at the small kitchen table with a cup of warm water, watching Ava pull on her blazer, grab her keys, and rush out the door for her job at the fashion house. Then I spent the entire rest of the day trapped inside the four walls of the modest apartment, resting on the sofa or staring out the window at the bustling street below.I knew Ava didn't mind supporting me. She proved it every single day with her quiet generosity, stocking the fridge with fresh fruit and making sure my prescriptions were always filled. But I minded.Before I ever met Bradley Norwood, I had always worked. I had always contributed, earned my own keep, and stood firmly on my own two feet. I hadn't been raised to be a gilded bird sitting in a velvet cage, and even with a fragile pregn