Ex Husband Wants Me Back Novels & Stories

She sat on his desk, grabbing his collar gently, then she leaned over to his ear, nibbling her mouth gently on it. "Don't tell me you regret divorcing your wife, baby. It's been five years," she whispered into his ears. With a hand, Nathan pushed her off him and got to his feet. He strolled to the window and gazed down at the bustling streets. With his voice filled with regret, he uttered, "I regret it so much. I regret ever leaving her for you and know what?" He turned and faced Rita whose face was pale in horror. "I want her back and I won't stop till she's mine again,"

“Now you want me back because of the child?” My ex-husband shook his head. “I want the two of you back.” “You want us back? Too bad, there is already Hawk and he was there when Liam wanted a father on his own. Hawk and I will be going to marry and I don’t want you to break our relationship just because you hit your head and want us back. It’s too late for that, Cali.” His eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t believe it. Why do you still call me by my nickname?”

He was actually serious. “You… you want me to get her back?” I stuttered, red-faced. “Of course, you idiot!” He gritted. “What do you expect? Should I bring her back?” “I… I just don't see how that is going to work. She hates me… I got married….” I muttered. “Well get her back!” He groaned. “You know what men do. Beg her, apologize, say you don't know what came over you. Anything to make her believe you. Say you can't live without her, come on, Eric! Everything!”

Her voice was filled with confusion, shock bleeding through every word as I disclosed my next move to her. And I could almost imagine her sitting upright at her desk, brows drawn together, eyes rolling in her socket as she thought things through. I closed my eyes briefly. “Yes, Bethel. I know this is sudden,” I said, my tone firm despite the exhaustion weighing on me. “But Alvin had gone too far this time, and I don't think I can keep up anymore with his bullsh*t.” My fingers curled slightly into the bedsheet. “So now I want everything back. The company, the shares, all of it. I wanted everything re-signed under my name. Not co-joined with his. I want everything to be mine and mine alone.”

she pressed, almost trembling but holding strong. “I needed time to get my head straight,” he replied without blinking. “When I saw you back in town, I thought things wouldn’t be the same. We hadn’t talked in three years since you got married, but there I was, feeling like that dumb, lovesick kid from years ago.” His words were so firm they twisted my heart, while Bete gripped the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. “But you were going through so much with your recent divorce. I knew some time would be good for us to sort things out, and when you were ready, you’d call me,” he finished, his voice sweet, making Bete burst into tears and turn to me.

It was real. "And here is the best part," Richard leaned in, his breath hitting my face. "I have the files. My father kept everything. The police reports, the bank transfers, the cover-ups. I have it all locked in a secure vault." "Why are you telling me this?" My voice shook. I hated that it shook. "Because I want my wife back." I barked a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "You are insane." "I am serious." All the humor dropped from his face. "Leave him. Come back to me. We put Monica in jail, we rebuild the company, and we start over. Just you and me."

I say with a smile. He hesitates, and for a moment, I see something flicker in his eyes—uncertainty? I can’t really describe it. Then he exhales slowly. “She’s back. Let’s get a divorce.” The words hit me like a slap. For a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t think. She’s back. Of course. The woman he’s always loved. My stomach twists as reality crashes down on me. I should’ve known. This year of shared meals, laughter and companionship was nothing more than a dream. I was the placeholder.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. If your mother hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near you.” He hums, pretending to think, and then he says with a sarcastic tone, “Such a good little wife.” I glare at him. “Ex-wife.” “Not yet.” His voice is smug, and I hate the way it sends a shiver down my spine. “We still have time before the paperwork is finalized.” “Not in any way that matters,” I snap. “Now, just give me the damn documents so I can leave.” Alex sighs dramatically. “You used to be much more pleasant. What happened?”

Yet here I am again. Back in his life. Back in his bed. Back in his chaos. No matter how much I try to dress it up as strategy or pride, the ugly truth stares me in the face: I came back for him. For us. Because walking away the first time nearly killed something inside me, and I refuse to let that happen twice. And then there’s her. That woman.