Chasing His Ex-Wife Back

ab

t feels like a countdown, the anticipation almost suffocating. My chest rises and falls with shallow b

Clear. Un

erly. Does this late goddess thin

reflection a ghost of the person I used to be. My black dress hung loosely on my frame, a reminder of the sleepless nights and

to see Damion's name. Nothing. Just a slew of messages from distant relat

ng around my neck-the one my mother had given me on my eighteenth birthday.

e, greeting them with a forced smile, the ache in my chest growing with every passing moment. Eve

miliar voice

abe

end, pushed through the small crowd with outstretched arms

s springing to my eyes as

all flicker of comfort. "I'm so sorry, Isabelle," she said softly, her voice th

my voice barely audible. "I

t me. Her hands rested firmly on my shoulders. "You're my

treaming down my cheeks betraying th

rtfelt speeches honoring my mother's life. I kept glancing at the door,

ed near the entrance, still clinging to the hope that Damio

d the mocking glint in her eyes were wildly out of place. She sauntered toward

n't think I'd see you here, but then again, where else would you be? Cli

ing the urge to lash out. "What do you

nnocence. "Oh, I just wanted to

ped. "Damion

g with malice. "Oh, no. He's not comin

ike a slap. "Wh

stop chasing after him. That you're embarrassing yourself. He doesn't care about you,

ay fro

er than I thought possible. "You're lyin

rn and look. "Oh, honey, I don't need to

ed on her heel and strutted away, l

ut her words barely registered. My mother was gone. Damion had abando

t the altar. My heart felt like it had been ripped apart, piece by piece,

the words tasting like ash. "No family, no mon

lanced at it with little interest.

ve Assistant Role in Cre