Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 40

Alexander POV

The door opened again, and for a split second, I thought Bianca had come back for round two. But it was just James, my PA.. standing there with a concerned expression. “Is everything okay, sir?” he asked cautiously, clearly having heard the tail end of the argument.

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back with a tired sigh. “It’s better than it’s been in a long time.” I gave him a small, reassuring smile, but James didn’t look entirely convinced. He closed the door gently behind him and approached with a sense of caution, as if one wrong word might set off another explosion.

“Bianca seemed.. upset,” he noted, his voice was laced with hesitation Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

I let out a dry laugh. “That’s an understatement. But she’s finally out of my life–for good this time.”

James’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “For good?”

I nodded firmly. “It’s done. I made it clear there’s nothing left between us. She can’t keep trying to force her way back in.”

James let out a slow breath, looking like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders too. He’d seen enough of the chaos Bianca brought into my life. “That’s good, sir. I think it’s for the best.”

“Yeah, I agreed, though there was still a lingering ache in my chest. “It is. I just… I need to move forward. And that starts with cutting out the things that were holding me back.”

James nodded in understanding, but I could see the curiosity in his eyes. He was too professional to pry directly, but I could tell he was wondering what–or who–had triggered this decision.

“Anything else you need from me, sir?” he asked, shifting topics.

I shook my head, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “No, just give me a bit of time to clear my head. I need to figure out my next steps.”

James lingered for a moment, clearly debating whether to say something more, but then he simply nodded. “Of course. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

I watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again. The silence settled. over me like a heavy blanket, the reality of what just happened slowly sinking in. Bianca was truly out of my life this time, but instead of feeling the relief I expected, all I could think about was Christiana.

Why was it that no matter how much I tried to move on or get my life together, my mind always circled back to her? The look on her face when she saw me at the restaurant haunted me–shock, anger, disappointment. It was as if she was staring at a ghost, or worse, a man she no longer recognized.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to shake off the memories. There was no denying it–I’d messed up, and not just with Christiana, but with everything. My life was a mess, spiraling out of control. And last night? Drunkenly getting into a fight at the restaurant and waking up in a cell was just the latest in a string of bad decisions.

I grabbed the glass of water on the table and took a long sip, trying to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth. My mind kept replaying the scene from earlier, the way Bianca had tried to act like everything was normal, like she could just waltz back into my life as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. I wasn’t the same man I was when we first met–hell, I wasn’t even the same man I was five years ago when Christiana left.

The truth was, I was tired–tired of pretending, tired of fighting, tired of living a life that felt like it was spiraling out of my control. For the first time in a long time, I wanted something real. Not the polished image Bianca offered, but something raw and genuine. I wanted to be better, to rebuild my life in a way that actually mattered.

But I knew that wouldn’t be easy, not with the mess I’d made. Christiana was out there, living her life, and she deserved better than the chaos I’d dragged her into before. She was stronger now, more independent, and I couldn’t just waltz back in expecting her to forget everything and pick up where we left off.

Still, the thought of her with someone else–especially someone like Daniel–ate away at me. It was irrational, but I couldn’t help it. She was the one person who’d ever made me feel truly seen, and I’d let her slip away.

2/22

The sound of my phone buzzing snapped me out of my thoughts. I picked it up and saw a text from James: “Are you sure you’re okay, sir? Let me know if you need anything.”

I appreciated his concern, but I didn’t want anyone worrying about me–not when I was still trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. I typed back a quick reply: “I’m fine, thanks. Just need to clear my head.”

But as I put the phone down, I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding the inevitable. I needed to confront everything head–on- Bianca, Christiana, my feelings–and start making things right. I couldn’t keep hiding behind excuses or distractions. If I wanted to fix things, I needed to be honest with myself and with the people I’d hurt.

But where did I even start? The answer was obvious: Christiana. I had to find a way to talk to her, to do more than apologize for everything and show her that I was serious about changing. But that would mean facing the truth–about us, about who I’d become, and about whether there was any chance of salvaging what we once had.

As I stared out the window at the city below, I knew one thing for sure: I couldn’t keep running from my past. It was time to face it, no matter how painful that might be.

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