Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart

Richard's

pov

The morning started off as one of those rare, lazy days. I'd woken up with Sarah curled up beside me, her hair fanning across the pillow in wild waves.

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Everything seemed perfect. Calm. Until I tried to sneak out of bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her voice was muffled, half-asleep, but she caught me.

"Thought I'd get us coffee." I grinned, still only halfway off the bed.

She lifted her head, one eye open and suspicious. "Don't think I didn't notice you were avoiding the dishes last night. You don't get coffee privileges till you do them." I held up my hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Dishes first, coffee later."

On my way to the kitchen, I passed by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the estate. Everything looked normal-guards in their usual spots, the gates secured.

Just another day, right? But I still felt an odd twinge, like there was something I was missing.

I shook it off and got to work on the sink full of dishes. I'd just started rinsing when Sarah appeared, looking far too smug.

"Oh, did the big CEO forget how to scrub a plate?" She teased, taking a mug down from the cabinet.

"Hey, I know my way around a sponge, thank you very much."

She leaned against the counter, watching me fumble with the sponge. "Right. Looks like you're scrubbing a priceless piece of art."

I scoffed, spraying water everywhere, just to watch her jump back. "See? Totally a pro."

We laughed, and I felt a pang of something warm. This was the side of Sarah I loved most-the easygoing, playful banter that reminded me of why we worked so well together.

Finally, after wrestling the last plate into submission, I dried my hands, feeling pretty pleased with myself. "Coffee now?"

She handed me the mug she'd already filled, rolling her eyes. "You're lucky I love you."

Our lazy morning drifted into the afternoon. Sarah decided she wanted to bake something.

Watching her try to figure out where anything in my kitchen was stored became a whole other form of entertainment. "Do you know where the measuring cups are?" she asked, spinning in place as if they might appear out of thin air.

I shrugged, lounging against the counter. "I might. But I'm enjoying watching you search."

She smirked, tossing a kitchen towel at me. "Big help you are. Isn't this your kitchen?"

"Yes, but I have people for this."

She looked at me, exasperated. "Of course, you do."

Finally, I showed her where the measuring cups were hiding. She got to work, and we ended up with flour everywhere, including on my suit pants, which was the least appropriate baking outfit I could have chosen. But, honestly, I didn't mind. If every day could look like this-messy, lighthearted, full of her laughter-I'd take it.

***

That evening, we decided to go out. It had been a while since we'd done anything outside the estate, and Sarah was itching to explore.

I wasn't entirely sure where we'd go, but I figured we could figure it out along the way. Something spontaneous. Casual.

"Just let me grab my jacket," I called out as we headed toward the front door.

Sarah looked me up and down, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, so you're not going out looking like a flour-dusted disaster?"

I chuckled, brushing the last bits of flour off my jacket. "Gotta keep up appearances."

We strolled through the grand entrance hall, laughing about her latest kitchen escapade, when something caught my eye through the window near the main door.

It was that same car from yesterday. Parked in exactly the same spot, just outside the gate.

I paused, a frown settling over my face.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, following my gaze.

"That car... It was here yesterday too."

She squinted, leaning closer to get a better look. "Maybe it's just a coincidence. Someone visiting a neighbor?"

"Maybe," I said, though I didn't fully believe it. I knew most of the people who came through here, either visitors or residents, and that car didn't look familiar.

"Let's not worry about it," I said, brushing it off, though I could feel my guard rising. "Probably nothing."

"Alright, Mr. Security Expert," she teased, nudging me as we headed out. But I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder one more time.

When we finally got into the car and drove off, the strange vehicle was nowhere in sight. I tried to relax, to focus on making the night enjoyable for Sarah.

But something about it gnawed at me. It was like a shadow creeping just outside my line of sight.

"Any thoughts on where you want to go?" I asked her as I drove, trying to lighten the mood. "You're the navigator for the evening."

Sarah grinned, glancing around as if the answer might appear in the air around us. "How about that little Italian place we passed the other night?" "Sold. Italian."

The drive was quiet, and I tried my best to shake off the lingering thoughts about the car. It was probably nothing.

Just a one-off. Someone lost or visiting family. But I couldn't quite rid myself of the feeling that it was something more.

We arrived at the restaurant, a cozy little spot tucked away from the main road. The aroma of garlic and herbs greeted us as we entered, and I finally started to feel myself relax.

As we were seated, Sarah glanced at me, her eyes bright with amusement. "You're still thinking about that car, aren't you?"

I forced a chuckle. "Can't get anything past you, can I?"

She laughed, reaching across the table to take my hand. "Hey, I get it. You're cautious. But it's probably nothing, Richard."

"Yeah, you're right," I said, squeezing her hand. "Just me overthinking."

Dinner was exactly what I needed-a chance to just unwind and be in the moment. We talked about everything and nothing, making silly bets on how many breadsticks we could eat, and laughing about the chaos we'd created in the kitchen earlier.

At one point, Sarah looked around, eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, how much do you want to bet I can charm the chef into giving us free dessert?"

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Are you really going to try?"

"Oh, I'm going to do more than try," she said, flashing a grin.

She left the table, and a few minutes later returned with a triumphant look on her face, holding two plates of tiramisu.

"Impressive," I said, chuckling as she slid a plate in front of me.

She winked. "Guess I've still got it."

We dug into the tiramisu, savoring each bite. For a moment, I forgot all about the car, about the strange feeling gnawing at me.

But as we left the restaurant and made our way back to the car, the chill from earlier crept back in. We pulled up to the estate, and my gut twisted.

The car was there again, in the same spot, headlights off, but engine running.

"Richard..." Sarah's voice trailed off, her eyes fixed on the car.

This time, I couldn't ignore it.

"I'm going to have a word with them," I said, my tone firmer than I intended. I felt her hand on my arm, holding me back.

"Are you sure? It could be nothing."

I shook my head, determined. "I'll be right back."

Steeling myself, I walked toward the gate. The car door opened, and a man stepped out. I recognized him immediately-James, an old business associate I hadn't seen in years.

"James?" I said, surprise mixing with suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, leaning casually against his car. "Just... checking up on you."

"Checking up on me?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "Why?"

He met my gaze, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Let's just say... certain things don't stay in the past. And neither do people."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my cool. "Is this supposed to be some kind of warning?"

James tilted his head, his smirk growing. "Take it however you want. But trust me-I know what I am saying."

With that, he got back in his car and drove off, leaving me standing there, fists clenched, heart pounding.