Chasing his ex-wife back

prologue.....

Vanessa pov

The cathedral was stunning, towering marble pillars, golden chandeliers casting a soft glow, and rows upon rows of high-society guests, all dressed in their finest. The scent of luxurious perfume and fresh roses filled the air, blending with the incense curling up from the golden censers.

Everything was flawless.Too perfect.

The fragrance of blooming roses and high-end perfume filled the air, blending with the faint sound of classical music. Laughter echoed among the crowd, champagne glasses clashing in joy. It was a dream, one I had been instructed to value, to desire.

Yet beneath the grandeur, beneath the polished smiles and whispered congratulations, I sensed it. The unsettling anxiety. The silent cry stuck in my throat, desperate to break free. It slithered through my veins, an icy whisper of truth I refused to acknowledge.

I held the bouquet of white roses so tightly that the fragile petals wrinkled beneath my fingers, their once perfect shape destroyed in my trembling hold. My heartbeat raced within my chest, powerful and demanding, screaming a warning I couldn't allow myself to heed.

Not at the moment. Not when everyone was watching me. Not when turning back was no longer a choice.

The priest's deep voice echoed through the vast cathedral.

"Do you, Peter Rodgers, take Vanessa Philips to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Next to me, Peter's hand wrapped around mine, firm, possessive, unyielding. His grip sent a clear message: Don't embarrass me.

His fingers felt warm, excessively warm, digging into my skin with a subtle type of command, as if he possessed me already. Perhaps, in his thoughts, he actually did.

"I do," he replied, his tone unwavering, smooth, like someone who had never experienced doubt.

A murmur of approval rippled through the audience. Smiling faces. Blinking cameras. The perfect love story playing out on the grandest stage.

My throat tightened.

I felt like I was at the brink of a precipice, staring into the void beneath, aware that the instant I uttered the words, I would fall.

But then...

A presence.

A shift in the air, subtle yet undeniable.

I felt it before I saw him, the weight of a gaze far too familiar, far too haunting.

Gradually, my eyes wandered past the priest, through the crowd of prominent individuals, beyond the stained glass windows that dispersed sunlight into shattered hues.

And then I saw him.

A tall figure, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. He stood at the far end of the cathedral, partially shrouded in shadow, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

My breath hitched.

The air around me seemed to thin, the noise of the crowd dulling into a hollow buzz.

He shouldn't be here.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

A shiver ran through me, but I couldn't look away.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, those dark, piercing eyes, held me captive. Then, so subtly I almost missed it, the corner of his lips curled into a smirk.

A silent message.

A warning.

A reminder.

My fingers twitched against Peter's. My lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. My mind reeled, a chaotic mess of fragmented memories.

I knew those eyes.

I knew that smirk.

It was the same one that had once whispered promises in the dark.

The same one that had set my soul on fire.

And the same one that had disappeared the night everything fell apart.

"Vanessa?"

The priest's voice snapped me back to reality. My gaze darted to Peter, whose dark eyes narrowed slightly. He had noticed my distraction.

His fingers tightened around mine, just a little too hard. The faintest pressure, a warning of his own.

"Do you, Vanessa Philips, take Peter Rodgers to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

The silence stretched unbearably long.

Peter's grip turned to steel.

Every eye in the room was on me.

I couldn't breathe.

I wasn't in a cathedral anymore.

I was in another place, trapped, caught between a love that could ruin me and an obligation I couldn't flee. A battle fought inside me, both sides insisting I yield. One drew me into an alluring passion, a blaze that risked devouring all that stood before it. The other constrained me with inescapable shackles, tied by duties I had never selected but had always recognized as mine to carry.

The burden of expectations bore down on my chest, stifling yet recognizable. Every choice I made, every move I took, was meticulously planned to bring me to this point. The facade I had constructed over the years was flawless, unyielding, yet now, it faltered. For the first time, doubt emerged through the gaps. This is how it was intended to be... right?

And yet...

My heart screamed no.

But my mind knew better.

I forced a smile. Lifted my chin. Took a steadying breath.

"I do," I whispered.

A surge of applause broke out, silencing the doubts that were gnawing at my throat.

Peter's face relaxed into contentment as he placed the diamond ring on my finger. It felt chilly, unaccustomed.

Then he leaned in, capturing my lips in a firm, possessive kiss.

I kissed him back, because that's what I was supposed to do.

But all I felt was the heat of a gaze searing into my skin.

I gulped nervously as I drew away from Peter, putting on another smile while guests rose to their feet, applauding, their expressions radiant with approval. My dad radiated happiness from the front row, his face glowing with pride. My mother wiped her eyes with a silk handkerchief, while next to her, Peter's parents exchanged a meaningful glance.

Everything had gone according to plan.

Except for the shadow lurking in the crowd.

I turned my head, searching, scanning the guests, my heart hammering wildly in my chest.

He was gone.

Like a ghost.

Like a shadow slipping back into the past.

But deep down, I knew...

This wasn't over.

Not even close.

Then, as I walked down the aisle, arm in arm with my new husband, my phone buzzed in my palm.

I glanced down.

A message.

Unknown Number: I miss you too

Can't wait to have you here my love,

Three months earlier.....

(Evelyn pov)

I couldn't stop smiling.

Humming gently, I placed the new bouquet of roses in the crystal vase, fine-tuning each stem to reach perfection. The fragrant scent of lilies and roses permeated the air, mixing with the cozy scent of vanilla candles dancing on the dining table. Everything needed to be perfect, just as our love.

In two nights, Sebastian and I will be celebrating our anniversary. Our fifth year of celebration. Five years filled with love, joy, and common aspirations.

I ran my fingers along the exquisite silverware, imagining how his eyes would sparkle when he walked in, how his lips would turn into that unique, sincere smile, the one he saved just for me.

But that wasn't all. This anniversary was going to be even more special.

I softly placed my hand on my abdomen, a warmth radiating within me.

Sebastian was about to become a father.

The mere idea flooded me with warmth, blending feelings of excitement and anxious anticipation in my chest. I bit my lip, unable to suppress the grin pulling at the edges of my lips. I discovered it a week ago, but I wanted to wait for the right moment to inform him. And what could be more ideal than our anniversary? A day already filled with love, memories, and promise, it seemed perfect.

I had dedicated the last few days to organizing every detail, hoping the unveiling would be as meaningful as the announcement itself. The present had been arranged, a stylish, engraved watch, thoughtfully selected to complement his taste. However, it was the note on the reverse that conveyed the true significance: Best Husband and soon to be Dad.

I imagined that moment countless times in my mind. The manner in which his eyebrows would crease subtly while he examined the inscription, then rise in understanding. The manner in which his eyes would deepen in color with feeling, perhaps even shimmer. He would look at me, really look at me, and in that moment, I understood I would witness it all: the affection, the happiness, the astonishment. And then, just like I imagined each time, his hands would gently hold my face, his lips meeting mine in a kiss so profound, so powerful, that I'd dissolve completely into him.

A laugh slipped from my mouth as I grabbed my phone, calling the one person who always knew how to make surprises even better

Vanessa.

My cousin and best friend. The person I trusted more than anyone.

The call barely rang before her voice chirped through the line.

"Eve! To what do I owe this honor?"

I laughed. "Hey, Nessa. What are you up to?"

"Oh, you know. Just dealing with life's chaos. What about you?"

"I need your help with something special."

Her interest piqued. "Special? Do tell."

I took a deep breath, my excitement bubbling over. "Sebastian and I have our anniversary in two nights, and I want to plan the most perfect evening ever. A private dinner, candlelight, soft music, all his favorite dishes. And..." I hesitated for dramatic effect.

"And?" she prompted.

"I'm pregnant."

A loud squeak erupted from the phone, causing me to chuckle.

"Are you for real?" Oh my goodness, Eve! This is incredible! "Has Sebastian found out yet?"

"No," I said, grinning. "I want to tell him that night. I got him a watch with the message engraved on it."

"That's really cute!" He will be extremely happy.

I exhaled softly, already envisioning his response. "I wish for that."

"Are you joking?" Of course, he will be! Alright, we have to organize this properly. Where would you like to have dinner? "Home or a fancy restaurant?"

I chewed on my lip, debating. "I thought about a restaurant, but then I figured something more intimate would be better. Just us, in our home, where we started everything. No distractions, no outside noise, just me and him."

Vanessa let out a delighted squeal. "That's actually perfect! You can control everything, the setting, the food, the lighting. Plus, it'll be cozy. He'll love it."

Relief washed over me, easing the tiny knots of doubt I hadn't even realized were forming. "I was hoping you'd say that. I need help setting things up. Will you come over the night before?"

"Of course, babe. We'll make it a night to remember. I'll even bring wine, and we can celebrate early! Maybe do a little practice run, taste-test some of the food, go over the playlist, make sure everything's just right."

I laughed, warmth blooming in my chest. "That sounds perfect. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Lucky for you, you'll never have to find out," she teased. "Now, tell me, what's on the menu? We need something delicious but also a little sexy."

"You're amazing, Nessa."

She chuckled. "I'm aware." However, I genuinely feel pleased for you, Eve. "You merit every bit of joy that exists."

She laughed. "I know. But, seriously, I'm happy for you, Eve. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Her words filled my heart with joy. "Thanks, love. I just hope I can reach Sebastian soon to confirm his schedule."

I glanced at the clock. He should be finishing work about now. I dialed his number, but it rang endlessly before his secretary picked up.

"Good evening, Mrs. Rodgers."

"Hi, Lily. Is Sebastian free?"

There was a brief silence, and I could hear the soft tapping of a keyboard. "I apologize, but Mr. Rodgers is currently in a significant meeting." He asked not to be interrupted.

I frowned, disappointment creeping in. "Oh... okay. Do you know when he'll be free?"

"I'm uncertain, ma'am, but I can pass along a message for him."

I forced a smile. "That would be great. Simply let him know I called."

Just as I was ready to conclude the call, a sudden ping resonated in the air.

Vanessa's phone.

I heard her shuffle, then a soft inhale. A pause. A hesitation.

"Nessa?" I asked, tilting my head. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." A little too fast. "Just a message from work."

However, there was something in her tone that caused my stomach to churn. It was faint, perhaps a small pause, a bit too much strain to appear relaxed, but I knew her too well to miss it.

A moment later, she chuckled softly, the noise light and rehearsed. "Regardless, try not to worry excessively about Sebastian." You're aware of how he acts when he's occupied. Simply concentrate on the surprise. "It will be perfect, Eve."

I paused, gripping my phone more tightly with my fingers. The discomfort remained, a slight murmur in my thoughts, yet I managed to smile. Perhaps I was overanalyzing the situation.

"You're correct," I replied, breathing out gently. "It will be perfect."

(Evelyn pov)

I ended up the call with Vanessa, but something about her tone lingered in my mind, an implicit reluctance, a forced lightness.

Had I imagined it?

I dismissed the discomfort and reminded myself that this evening wasn't focused on Vanessa. It was about us, Sebastian and I.

Our anniversary was nearing, and despite my husband being distant recently, I was set on reminding him of what we shared.

I inhaled deeply, pushing aside the rising uncertainty, and headed downstairs to see how the maids were doing. The home was already immaculate, the atmosphere fragrant with fresh roses from the arrangement I had set in the foyer earlier. The team had performed excellently, as usual.

In the kitchen, Maria, our head maid, was putting away the last of the dishes. She turned when she saw me.

"Ma'am, do you need anything?"

I smiled, even if it felt constricted. "You all can retire for the evening." "I'll handle dinner."

Maria took a moment to think. "Are you sure, ma'am?" "We can make something for Mr. Sebastian if you're interested."

"No." I nodded my head. "I want to cook for my husband myself tonight."

She nodded, giving me a look I couldn't fully understand before guiding the others out

The house fell into a deep silence.

I tied my flowery apron, pushing up my sleeves while I worked in the kitchen. Cooking has always been therapeutic for me. The rhythmic chopping, the rich scents of spices blending together, it grounded me. And right now, I needed that comfort.

I hoped tonight would be memorable, despite him returning home late for the last few weeks. Even if he hardly glanced my way anymore.

I chose his favorite meal, grilled steak, mashed potatoes with garlic butter, and a side of sautéed asparagus. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

Would he appreciate it?

Would he even notice?

I shook my head. Of course, he would. This is us. He loves me.

Right?

By the time everything was ready, I set the table with our best silverware. Two elegant white candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the dining area. I poured a glass of his favorite red wine and took a step back, admiring the setup.

It was perfect.

Now, all that was left was for him to come home.

So, I waited.

And waited.

The clock ticked past 10pm.

Then 11pm.

Then midnight.

My heart dropped while I stared at the untouched plate, the candle wax flowing down in slow streams. My fingers drummed nervously on the table, my stomach churning in knots.

Where could he be?

Sebastian never used to be this late. Even during his most hectic evenings, he consistently found a moment to at least reach out to me. However, recently he had been aloof, returning home late, evading discussions, dismissing me with reasons.

I grabbed my phone and called his number.

No response.

I tried again.

Still nothing .

A chilling discomfort lodged in my stomach.

Finally, at half past 12, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the house.

I jumped up, my heart hammering as I rushed to the foyer.

Sebastian stood there, appearing effortlessly polished in his fitted suit. His tie was untightened, his dark hair a bit tousled, like someone had just run their fingers through it.

A person who was not me.

He hardly gave me a look as he placed his briefcase down.

"You're late," I said softly, searching his face for any sign of guilt or remorse.

He shrugged. "I had a long day."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I made dinner."

His eyes flickered toward the dining table, where the candles had burned low. The plates were still set, the wine untouched.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I already ate."

The words cut deeper than I expected.

"Oh," I murmured, forcing myself to smile. "Where?"

He hesitated. Just for a second. But I saw it.

"With a client," he said, his voice smooth.

A lie.

I knew he was lying.

But I didn't call him out on it. I just nodded and forced myself to swallow the hurt.

"Okay," I whispered.

Without another word, he walked past me and headed upstairs.

I stared at his retreating figure, my hands clenched into fists.

My mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Was he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Was I imagining things?

Or was he hiding something?

I brushed aside the doubts. I was simply being overly cautious. He felt exhausted. The job had been demanding. That's all it was.

Inhaling deeply, I tidied the uneaten dinner, stowed the candles, and served myself a glass of wine. I wasn't fond of red wine, yet I required something, anything to suppress the sinking sensation in my chest.

After a few minutes, I went upstairs. I had to have a conversation with him. To resolve this issue before it became unmanageable.

However, as I arrived at our bedroom door, I noticed a noise.

The gentle whisper of his voice.

The soft murmur of his voice.

At first, I thought he was talking to himself. But then I heard her.

A woman's voice.

Muffled, low, but unmistakable.

My blood turned to ice.

Sebastian stood in the bathroom, the door cracked open, steam rising from the shower he had just turned on

I stepped closer, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"...you know I miss you."

My breath caught in my throat.

"I hate being apart from you like this."

The room started spinning.

Who was he talking to?

I clamped a hand over my mouth, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

The woman's voice responded, but I couldn't make out the words.

I shouldn't be listening. I should walk away. Pretend I heard nothing.

But I couldn't.

I had to know.

Then, Sebastian's next words shattered whatever fragile hope I had left.

"Just a little longer, baby. I promise. I'll fix everything."

Baby.

He had never called me that.

My body went numb, my hands trembling as I pressed myself against the wall.

Who was she?

How long had this been going on?

Was it just one time? Or had he been lying to me for months?

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not yet.

I needed proof. I needed something.

Before I could finish the thought, my elbow knocked against the wooden dresser behind me.

A loud thud echoed through the room.

I froze.

The conversation stopped.

Silence.

And Then,

"Evelyn?"

Sebastian's voice, sharp and alert.

My stomach dropped.

He knew I was there.