All Chapters of Divorced by the Hockey Captain: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Tabitha's POVThe morning started unusually well.I woke up slowly, blinking open my eyes to the soft sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. For the very first time in weeks, there was no sudden, violent rush to the bathroom. No cold sweat, no dry heaving, and no dizzying nausea clutching at my throat. I actually felt... normal.I sat up, testing my body, and felt a quiet, fragile surge of strength. Even though Ava had practically threatened to tie me to the bed frame if I didn't adhere to strict bed rest, I couldn't resist tidying up a little. I smoothed the sheets over the mattress, folded the blanket on the sofa, and walked onto the tiny iron balcony to water the small potted fern Ava had bought me.Back at the kitchen table, I opened my laptop and replied to Mark and Sarah, answering their questions about the nursery color scheme.For the first time since the day I picked up that silver pen in Bradley's office, I caught myself softly humming a tune under my breath. The dar

Rachelle's POVI haven't slept in three days.Every single time I close my eyes, the darkness of my apartment vanishes, replaced by the muffled sound of Bradley's desperate voice ringing through the cracked doorway of that private investigator's office.Find her.Of course. I'd been stupid to think that he'd forget about her. To think it was only a matter of time. It wasn't. Because now he was searching for her. And knowing the kind of crazy connections he had….. he'd find her in no time. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck….~Find Tabitha~ Those two words have been echoing inside my skull like a relentless, maddening drumbeat, driving me to the brink of sanity. I can't allow it to happen. I won't stand by and watch everything I've fought for, lied for, and plotted for get stripped away because my naive, foolish ex-fiancé suddenly developed a sudden case of remorse.I sat at my glass dining table, staring at the bright screen of my secondary phone. On it was a photograph I had secret

Bradley's POVMarcus finally forced me out of the penthouse."You look like you've been buried alive, Brad," he said, practically shoving my coat into my arms and steering me toward his car before I could argue. "I'm not letting you rot in that dark living room for another afternoon."I didn't fight him on it. I didn't have the energy left for a fight over something as small as leaving the apartment. The only reason I agreed at all was to replace my phone, which had cracked straight down the middle of the screen after I dropped it on the marble floor during a bad night I'd rather not think about again.That was it. Nothing personal. Just an errand to get Marcus off my back for an afternoon.===The mall was packed with the usual midday crowd. Kids laughing near the fountain, teenagers crowding the upper food court, families wandering from store to store with bags hanging off both arms. I pulled my cap down and kept my chin tucked into my collar, barely registering any of it. My head w

Tabitha's POVToday's appointment felt different from all the ones before it.I barely slept the night before, but for the first time in months it wasn't because of nightmares or unexpected bleeding or the weight of everything I'd left behind. It was because today I might finally learn whether I was carrying a son or a daughter.I caught myself smiling at the ceiling before I'd even gotten out of bed, both hands resting over the low curve of my stomach. It was the first time this whole pregnancy had felt genuinely exciting instead of just frightening.===Ava insisted on driving us, and Darlington insisted, just as loudly, that letting Ava behind the wheel was a documented safety hazard."I obey every speed limit on the books, Darlington," Ava said from the driver's seat, adjusting her mirror with a sharp glare."You treat speed limits as gentle suggestions," he said, buckling his seatbelt with exaggerated care. "I've watched the way you take corners.""They're guidelines.""They're s

Tabitha's POVIt wasn't about the money anymore.The $350 deposit from weeks ago had already been carefully budgeted, but today was different. Today was the official final presentation for my very first interior design client under my maiden name. For the first time in three long, soul-crushing years, I wasn't stepping into a room as an extension of someone else. I wasn't the quiet, decorative wife sitting at the end of a high-society table.I was just Tabitha.I sat at the kitchen table, my eyes burning from staring at my laptop screen for three straight hours.I was finalizing the nursery design concept I had started not too long ago. My nerves were completely shredded. Every time I looked at the 3D rendering of the room, I found something to second-guess. I changed the color palette, edited the wooden crib finish, deleted a corner reading chair, redrew it, and deleted it all over again."You've changed that floor lamp five separate times in ten minutes," a smooth voice remarked fro