After the Divorce: Ex-husband's Regret

sabella. His hands hung at his sides, fingers twitching like he might reach for somet

rayal, a hunger to just scream at him for standing there and letting this happen. Isabella, meanwh

gain. The silence stretched, heavy. He

ally, voice hesitant, wavering. "

ezing tight enough to make her flinch. "No," Ava said, her voice low, dangerous.

syrupy, carefully measured. "Ava.....please, let me have brea

when you're here. This is my husband. This is my home. You ar

cracked, harsh and raw, louder than either of them expected. "She's goi

, then closed it again, words sticking in her throat. She cou

innocent way that always made Ava's skin crawl. "Matthew... just

est tightened, fingers flexing at her sides. Isabella's

d months of indecision. "Promise me something," he said, eyes on

asked, voice soft, teasing, like it was a joke

dge in his tone made Ava shiver despite

le. "Fine," she said. "I'll come back." Her voic

her departure were nothing, as if it were a

brushing hers lightly-not a touch of a

ten across her face. Her hands twitched, wanted to reach, wanted to pull

ged, sharp bursts. Her shoulders shook slightly as she tried to ste

... he let her..." she whispered, words b

va," she said softly, "you need to breathe." Her voice was gentle, grounding. "Th

hard. "I... I can't..." Her voic

Yes. You can. Because he's confused. He's... broken right

as waiting, still untouched. She wanted to throw it across the room,

ng in the way Matthew had walked her out, the light in his eyes, the soft smil

Her lips pressed into a thin line. She was

warmth seep into her palms. Her mind was racing, plotting every step. Every quiet revenge. Every r

ed the door a

ly to no one in particular, voice tr

Matthew's voice carried

repeated under her breath. Her teeth ground

light was pale and indifferent, the same that had crept into the ro

feel the tension in her chest, the fire in her veins. She didn't have to cry. She

fully, that anger could be sharpened, focused. That the hurt could be wea

nyone, not Isabella, not

past, heading toward his study, perhaps, or the bedroom.

most dropping it. The clatter was a punctuati

wouldn'

and turned back to the breakfast. The eggs were slightly

finally helps him restore his memory...... Isabe

exactly how far Ava coul

ed longer, pouring into th