REVENGE ON MY EX HUSBAND

~ JANE'S POV ~

As I rose from the bed, my back protested with a dull ache, a consequence of sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed for a long time. Since arriving at my mother's apartment, I'd barely taken a moment to breathe.

The opulent decor seemed almost incongruous with the turmoil brewing inside me. My gaze wandered, taking in the familiar yet somehow foreign surroundings.

The apartment's sheer size was overwhelming, the thought of the times I had spent with my mom before I got married to Logan came flooding back.

As I walked out of the room to the sitting room, my eyes drifted to a portrait on the wall, a photograph of my mother that seemed to gaze back at me with warmth and kindness. The sight was almost too much to bear, and I felt a lump form in my throat as memories began to flood back.

My mom had been my only source of joy, she had been the one who took care of me right from when my father abandoned us. I was just five then.

As I stood there, frozen in front of the portrait, tears streamed down my eyes, I couldn't help but think about the last time we'd spoken, the last time I'd seen her... and now she was gone. The weight of my grief threatened to consume me, and I wasn't sure how to process it all.

My phone buzzed in my bag, making me snap out of my grief-stricken trance, flinching at the sudden interruption. I quickly wiped away my tears and grabbed my phone, my heart sinking further when I saw Kate's name flashing on the screen, my best friend, who knew me all too well.

"Hey, Jane, how are you holding up?" she asked as soon as I answered.

"I'm fine" I replied, forcing a weak smile, through sniffles, trying to hide my emotional state. But Kate wasn't buying it.

"Don't even try to lie to me, Jane. I know you're crying. You need to be strong for what's ahead, sweetie. Your mom would want you to be strong and resilient, not still grieving like this," she said, her words a mix of concern and gentle prodding.

Kate's words, though well-intentioned, stung a bit. She was right, of course, Mom would want me to be strong. But it's hard to put on a brave face when the pain feels so raw.

"Where are you now?" She continued.

"I'm in mom's place, I came to have a look at the place for the last time before the things were packed after the burial." I replied making my way outside the apartment.

"Ohh, well the burial, when is the date?" Kate inquired.

"It's this Saturday, Her company is handling the arrangements as a last tribute to her." I responded.

"Ok, well my flight will be leaving very early tomorrow morning, I will be there soon ok? My regards to Logan, be safe, love you." she said as she ended the call.

I hung up and quickly got into my car, realizing it was getting late. I had completely forgotten about cooking dinner for Logan and didn't want him to come home to an empty house without a meal ready.

It was past 10 pm, and Logan still hadn't returned home. I had dozed off on the sofa, waiting for him, but his absence was starting to worry me.

Over the past week, Logan had been acting strangely distant, and I hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it.

The loss of my mother was still weighing heavily on me, and his detachment was making things even tougher.

What concerned me most was how Logan seemed to be going about his life as usual, without any visible signs of empathy or acknowledgment of my loss.

He hadn't taken time off work to pay his respects, and he hadn't even asked how I was coping. It was as if he was oblivious to the pain I was going through. I couldn't understand why he was being so detached, especially when I needed him the most.

The silence in the house was oppressive, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off in our relationship. I needed Logan's support and comfort now more than ever, but his absence was leaving me feeling isolated and alone.

I sat lost in thought, the sudden noise of horn at the estate gate broke the silence. I assumed it was Logan, and a mix of relief and anticipation washed over me. I had been waiting for him to return so we could finally talk over dinner, despite the late hour.

I stood up, smoothing out my clothes, and made my way to the door, expecting Logan to walk in with a tired smile and a greeting.

But the door burst open with a force that startled me, and Logan strode in, his movements abrupt and uncoordinated.