All Chapters of My Billionaire Ex Forgot Our Divorce:I Became His Wife Again: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

He's waiting outside the parking structure when I leave the office, leaning against a car that isn't his, hands shoved in his pockets like he's trying to look casual and mostly succeeding, except for the tension in his shoulders that gives him away immediately."You have a lot of nerve," I say, not slowing my pace."Thirty seconds, Elena. That's all I'm asking.""You've had considerably more than thirty seconds of my life already. I'd say we're well past even.""I know." He falls into step beside me anyway, matching my pace without crowding it, which is at least a small improvement over the hospital hallway. "I heard about the surveillance on Mia's building."I stop walking."How," I say, my voice flat, "would you know anything about that.""Because I still have friends inside Cross Enterprises' security division," Leo says. "People who talk to me because they don't know yet that I'm not exactly welcome in your life anymore. One of them mentioned Doyle authorized a watch order on a re

I start doing it on purpose after Grant's call, small, deliberate things, dropped into ordinary moments, just to see what Alexander catches without meaning to.I mention a childhood nickname I never actually had, watching his face for recognition that shouldn't exist. Nothing. I reference a restaurant we supposedly went to on our first anniversary, one I invent entirely on the spot. He frowns, apologizes, says he can't place it, and the confusion looks genuine enough that I almost feel guilty for testing him at all.Almost.Then, three days later, over dinner, I set my fork down at a particular angle I've never once used in front of him since the accident — a habit from childhood, from watching my mother eat like every meal was a performance for people who might be grading her.Alexander's eyes flick to it instantly. "You used to do that when you were nervous," he says, before he seems to realize he's said anything unusual at all. "The fork thing. I haven't seen you do it in years."

[Victoria]The ledger has lived in the same drawer for three years, beneath a false bottom I had installed myself, by a locksmith I paid enough to guarantee his silence and then quietly stopped using afterward, just to be certain.I take it out only at night, when the house is finally still, when I can sit at my desk without the risk of Elena's sharp, unforgiving eyes catching something in my expression I haven't yet learned to fully hide from her. She's good. Better than I expected, if I'm honest with myself, which I try to be at least once a day, usually here, alone, with this book open in front of me like a confession I've never had the courage to actually make.I knew about the policy revision the day it happened. I told myself, at the time, that it didn't matter — that Jonathan was gone, that Alexander was young and grieving and surrounded by advisors who should have known better than to let him sign something that complex without proper scrutiny. I told myself a great many conve

We end up working late together three nights in a row, not by design, at least not at first. Victoria's demanding a full audit of every vendor relationship before the next board cycle, and between my own investigation and the legitimate workload that's landed on me since the equity terms went through, midnight has quietly become the only hour where the house is finally quiet enough to actually think.The first night, I barely register him at all... he slips into the study around eleven with a stack of his own paperwork, murmurs something about the Ashford acquisition, and settles into the chair across the room without asking permission. I keep my head down, my pen moving steadily through figures, and if I notice the particular quality of his silence... focused, unhurried, nothing like the restless energy he used to carry through every room in this house before the accident, I don't let myself dwell on it.The second night, he brings me coffee without being asked, sets it down at the c

I didn't confront her again right away. Grant's warning sits heavy enough in my mind that I force myself to do the harder thing instead, wait, watch, let Renata believe whatever conclusion she drew from our hallway conversation might have been overreaction rather than exposure.It's harder than it sounds. Patience has never been my weakness, but this particular version of it, sitting across breakfast tables pretending not to notice how carefully Renata avoids meeting my eyes now, how she times her movements through the house to minimize the chances of crossing paths with me at all, tests something in me I didn't know needed testing.On the third day, I follow her.It isn't difficult. She leaves the estate just after four in the afternoon, telling Victoria something about a dentist appointment that I happen to know, from an offhand comment she made weeks ago, isn't due for another two months. I keep my car a careful distance behind hers, the way Grant once taught me during a different