CHASING MY EX-WIFE

CHAPTER 12

Arabel's POV

My shoulders sag as soon as the car parks in front of the fountain, making me release a lungful of air I had no idea I had been holding in.

Realizing my sudden consciousness, I almost let out a tear as the snippets of our memories together raced through my head; both good and bad memories. The good ones were few while the bad ones were a lot.

Was it the night I had to wait up for him in the hope of having him try my new recipe? Was it the nights he had promised a date out and I had myself made up like a Barbie doll waiting till the clock struck 12 am and I eventually had to force myself to wash off the silly makeup and head up to bed?

Was it the unapologetic smile he usually threw my way after returning home leaving me disappointed from his late nights out and his never-ending forgetfulness about one thing or the other which he promised and never happened?

Or was it the part where we finally consummated our marriage and a few days after, having him return to his cold self only to realize I was pregnant the same day he told his ex-lover he loved her and he wanted out with me?

Was it the determined look on his face when he told me about the divorce as though he had been longing for that desperately while I was holding onto a loose end?

The questions that whirled around my head that night were numerous. Too many to forget so soon.

I kept asking myself if that night meant nothing to him as much as it did to me.

That night when we made passionate love meant a whole lot to me because it made me feel like it was the beginning of a new chapter for us.

A new opening.

A start to a fresh life. It was indeed a start to a fresh life but not what I imagined for us or myself.

Richard betrayed me.

He broke me. He gave me hope and still ended up shattering that hope without realizing it.

Sometimes, I just want to put the whole blame on him, and other times, I find myself thinking he would have acted better if he knew how I felt towards him.

He would have acted better if it wasn't a forced marriage. He would probably have acted better if he wasn't obsessed with that woman and she never came back.

One thing made me think leaving without a word or without any persuasion was the best. It was because her arrival was trying to force out my little demon.

Everyone has that, how we control that demon makes us who we are; whether good or bad. I was literally asking myself why she had to come back. Before I could go on to wish her dead, I decided it was best to leave.

Obviously, Richard wasn't mine from the beginning and he will never be.

A sigh leaves my mouth. My eyes hurt from the unshed tears. My skin tingles from his warm touch which reminded me of how I always reacted to his touch whenever he touched me with purpose.

My heart always crawls out of excitement whenever he does that. I love when he does that. I figured being touchy was one of his love languages. That was all in the past.

Now I do not know if all my assumptions and theories about him are even right or wrong. In fact, I don't even know who Richard is and I don't care.

“Ma'am,” the voice of Patrick jerks me back to life. I blink, looking up at him, and quickly flash him a smile to hide my embarrassed face.

I don't know how long he has the car door opened and has been standing there waiting for me lost in my own world.

When I step out, a gush of the evening air rushes at me, making me take a sharp inhale to calm my nerves. It always does the trick.

My career started on this. Take a sharp breath before every presentation just because I am not confident enough to stand in front of clients to present my ideas.

Taking sharp breaths before every contract signing. It was my little way of asking nature to bless my endeavors and lead me to the right path.

So far, everything I have done since I left Richard has paid off.

I shouldn't be mad at him anymore, should I?

Whether yes or no, I can't help it. I can't help the mixed feelings. I can't help the invisible anger that still bubbles inside of me at the thought of him.

I can't help the unspoken words of rage and disappointment which I always wish to spout at him each time we meet. But I can't.

For me to achieve my aim, I have to pretend. This contract means a lot and I should get it done with.

A piercing scream reaches my ear as soon as I enter the living room, my eyes scanning the entire place for the sight of Daisy.

She must have woke up to my absence and became inconsolable. Whenever she threw tantrums like this, it reminded me of her father.

I see Maria kneeling in front of her at the far edge of the living room with a pack of chocolate stretched at Daisy who shakes her head and folds her arms around her bosom with a pout.

Then she looks up and our eyes meet.

“Mommy?” She runs past Maria over to me. I open my arms out for her and she runs in, sobbing softly.

“Sorry, my darling. Mommy is home now, ok?” I smile, patting her back softly to soothe her back to sleep like I always do.

Instead of remaining calm and allowing me to do my job, she disengages from the hug.

“Did you go to the meeting with my new big friend?”

Confusion skates my expression for a while until it hits me.

Richard.

Richard is her friend. I shake my head immediately.

“No, Darling. We are in London and your new friend is in New York.”

“Oh!" Realization dawns on her.

The realization that she must have thrown a tantrum all for nothing.

“When are we going back to New York?” The sudden question makes me raise a brow in question.

“Why?”

“I want to see him. I made a promise…”

The doorbell interrupts her from going further, making me rise up despite my curiosity to know what she is talking about.

But my curiosity to know who is visiting this late overshadowed the curiosity of what she is insinuating. Maria stands up to go get the door but I signal to her to stay put.

Having to deal with Daisy's tantrum should be enough for a night. She needs to retire for the night immediately.

Something holds me back and I turn to see Daisy holding my hand before jumping forward so we can go to the door together.

Shaking my head at her silliness, I walk towards the door with our fingers entwined.

The doorbell rings again and I pull the door open to see the last person I expect on my doorstep.

Richard.

With a big bouquet of flowers sitting calmly in his hands.