Chasing his Ex-Wife Back

Chapter 5

The hallway is quiet, the hum of computers and low conversations giving way to the evening exodus as employees file out for the day. The silence stretches, interrupted only by the occasional sound of footsteps fading into the distance.

I clutch the strap of my purse tighter, my heartbeat drumming a wild rhythm. Each step toward Damion’s office feels heavier than the last, my nerves tangling into knots. I shouldn’t be here, sneaking past his assistant’s empty desk, but the urgency in my chest won’t let me wait any longer.

The golden light of sunset filters through the high windows, casting long, fractured shadows across the polished floor. I reach the door, already ajar, and push it open just enough to slip inside.

The sight before me freezes me in place.

Kaia stands close to Damion, her smile sharp as she leans toward him, her fingers brushing his tie with the ease of someone who has practiced the gesture countless times. Their faces are inches apart, and the easy familiarity between them feels like a slap to my face. My stomach clenches, jealousy entwined with a pain so fierce it nearly doubles me over.

“Damion,” I say, sharper than I intended. The sound of my voice slices through the room, and they both look up—Kaia’s expression smug, Damion’s startled. For a moment, something flickers in his blue eyes. Guilt? Surprise? It vanishes quickly, replaced by his usual icy detachment.

His brows pull together in irritation. “Isabelle,” he says, his tone clipped. “What are you doing here? Who let you in?”

Kaia tilts her head, her smirk curling wider. “It’s after hours, darling. You should’ve known to lock the door. Clearly, we’re not safe from uninvited guests.”

I ignore her, forcing myself to stand taller even as my knees threaten to buckle beneath me. “I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. My gaze doesn’t waver from Damion. “Alone.”

Kaia rolls her eyes, brushing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated annoyance. “If this isn’t the perfect example of bad timing,” she drawls, turning to Damion. “I’ll be right outside.”

Damion hesitates, his gaze flickering between us. Finally, he nods, and Kaia saunters out, throwing me a mocking glance as she closes the door behind her. The sound of the latch clicking feels like the prelude to a battle.

The room is suffocating with just the two of us. The silence thickens, the tension sharp enough to cut.

Damion folds his arms, leaning back against his desk, his expression cold. “Make it quick, Isabelle. I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

I take a deep breath, ignoring the sting of his words. “I came to tell you something important,” I begin. The excitement and hope that had carried me here falter under his scrutiny, but I press on. “I’m pregnant, Damion.”

For a moment, time seems to stop. The air between us crackles, charged with an energy that’s neither relief nor joy. His expression remains unreadable, and then, slowly, a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Pregnant,” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like it’s poison. “Is this your latest scheme, Isabelle? Your desperate attempt to win me back?”

The fragile flame of hope flickering inside me is snuffed out in an instant. “What? No—this isn’t a scheme. I thought you’d want to know because—”

“Because what?” He steps forward, his eyes narrowing, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because you think this will change everything? That I’ll suddenly forget the past year, the failures, and take you back? You’re so desperate, it’s almost laughable. How can you be pregnant? Can a barren woman suddenly un-barren herself?”

The insult is a slap to my face. My breath catches, and for a moment, I can’t speak. “You think I’d lie about something like this?” My voice trembles with disbelief. “Damion, I’m telling you the truth. This isn’t manipulation—this is our child.”

He shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “You’re unbelievable. You expect me to believe that after everything, you show up here, uninvited, with this fairy tale? I’m not falling for it, Isabelle. I’m done with your games.”

His words pierce me, each one a blow to the fragile hope I’d nurtured. My vision blurs with tears. “This isn’t a game to me,” I whisper, the tremor in my voice betraying the pain tightening around my chest. “I thought you’d care. I thought, for a moment, that the man I loved might still be in there somewhere.”

“Loved,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t know what love is, Isabelle. If you did, you wouldn’t be here trying to manipulate me with tales of a baby that may or may not even be mine—or worst of all, doesn’t even exist.”

His accusation cuts deep, a blade twisting in my heart. The room spins, and I take a shaky step back. “I shouldn’t have come,” I murmur, more to myself than to him. “I shouldn’t have believed there was any part of you that still cared.”

I turn, my hand fumbling for the door handle as tears spill freely down my cheeks. The dam I’d been holding inside breaks, and before I can say anything else, I push the door open and step out into the hall. The cool air of the corridor feels sharp against my flushed face, but it does nothing to quell the storm inside me.

Kaia stands nearby, her arms crossed and a smug smile playing on her lips. “Didn’t go as planned, did it, Izzy?” she calls, her voice sweet and venomous.

I don’t look back. My feet carry me forward, down the hall and out the front doors of the building, each step faster than the last. The sky has darkened, heavy with the promise of rain.

The first drops fall as I step outside, cold and stinging against my skin. But I keep moving, the rain turning into a torrential downpour that soaks me within moments. It’s as though the sky itself doesn’t want to see my tears, so it weeps along with me.

I stumble to the edge of the street, my vision blurred with tears and rain, gasping for breath as sobs wrack my body. The weight of the moment crushes me, the realization that I am alone in this—that the one person I thought I could still reach is beyond my grasp.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pocket. The vibration shakes through me like a lightning strike. I pull it out with trembling hands, blinking against the rain to read the screen. It’s the hospital.

The voice on the other end is calm, detached, but the words that follow shatter what little is left of me.

“Isabelle, we are sorry to inform you that your mother has just passed away.”