Reclaiming His Ex-wife

"Madam, should I reheat your dinner?" The maid's voice was soft, not certain of what to say.

Isabella looked down at the meal before her, she hadn't touched it. A bottle of red wine, roasted veggies and steak were served.

Everything Nolan enjoyed.

She had carefully prepared everything in the hopes that he would return home on time for once

Her fingers tightened around the table's edge. No Maria, thank you. "You're free to sleep."

Maria nodded after hesitating, giving Isabella a look filled with something close to sympathy before heading out.

Isabella looked at the wall clock and sighed.

12:07 a.m.

She wasn't shocked. Yes she was disappointed, perhaps hurt. But taken aback? Never.

She was surrounded by the icy silence of the mansion. Everything appeared flawless because of the golden glow cast by the chandelier above.

Classy, without love.

Her mind went back to a time as she rubbed a finger over the rim of her wine glass.

At one point, Nolan had hurried home just to see her smile. He had pulled her in his arms as if he couldn't bear to be apart from her for another moment, kissed her in the doorway and whispered he had missed her.

That Nolan was gone. Or perhaps he had never existed.

She was brought back to reality by a sudden rush of wind that shook the glass windows. She looked at the front door, somewhat expecting it to swing open. He wouldn't come. Not yet.

She reached for the fork, forcing herself to take a bite.

The food had no taste and was cold. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and chewed mechanically.

The mansion was a masterpiece, designed to impress rather than comfort. Marble floors, high ceilings and priceless wall arts. It should have felt like home but it didn't.

This house had been her favourite. She had once thought it would be great starting a life here with Nolan. Now, it felt like a prison made of glass. Beautiful but fragile, waiting for the smallest crack to shatter completely.

The sound of footsteps made her pause. Not Nolan. His shoes had a heavier sound, more deliberate. The staff. The ones who still moved around, pretending not to notice how their mistress sat alone every night, waiting for a husband who barely remembered she existed.

They never said anything. Never asked questions. Just like she never asked where Nolan was when he didn't come home.

She pushed her plate away, appetite gone. She should sleep and pretend she didn't care. Pretend she wouldn't be sitting in this same spot tomorrow, hoping for something different.

Just as she stood, the front door creaked open.

Her heart jumped before she could stop it.

He was home.

Finally.

°°°

Isabella stood frozen as Nolan stepped inside. He ran one hand through his dark hair and untied his tie with the other one. As usual, his expression was unreadable but his sharp features were set in exhaustion.

After giving her a quick acknowledgement, he looked away and shrugged off his suit jacket.

Then the scent hit her.

Not his usual cologne. Not the faint scent of whiskey from business meetings.

Perfume. Expensive. Floral with a touch of vanilla. Not hers.

Isabella's fingers curled against her silk dress. She forced herself to remain motionless but her breath came faster.

Don't overthink it.

She swallowed and spoke, keeping her voice steady. "You're late."

Nolan didn't flinch. Didn't even look guilty. He just rolled his shoulders as if the weight of the day clung to him. "Work ran late."

Her fingernails sank into her hands. "All night?"

A pause. Then a slight shift in his position. "Yes."

That was it. No explanation, no apology. Just that single word, spoken like a fact she had no right to question.

There was denying of the overpowered scent that hung between them.

Isabella clenched her jaw, forcing her emotions down. She wanted to ask who she was, wanted to demand why he smelled like another woman's touch.

But she didn't.

She had spent years convincing herself that doubt was poison.

That questioning him would only push him further away.

So instead, she nodded. A small, tight nod.

Nolan walked past her without another word, heading toward the staircase.

A part of her broke.

She couldn't tell if it was the coldness in his voice, the perfume or the fact that he no longer bothered to pretend.

Her feet moved before she could stop them.

She followed him.

Isabella's steps were light against the polished floor as she followed Nolan upstairs. He didn't glance back, didn't notice her shadow trailing behind him.

He walked down the long hallway, stopping outside his study and left the door slightly open behind him instead of shutting it.

Isabella stopped.

A soft voice drifted through the gap. Low. Intimate.

Evelyn.

Isabella's breath caught.

She pressed her palms against the cold wall. She could see them through the gap in the door.

Evelyn stood inches from Nolan, her head tilted up, lips parted as she spoke. Her voice was soft, teasing.

"You work too hard. You should let yourself relax."

Nolan didn't step back.

He remained in place.

Isabella felt a painful twist in her stomach. She was certain they would hear the loud pounding of her heart.

She waited. Waited for him to push Evelyn away. Waited for him to tell her to leave.

But he didn't.

He just stood there, letting

Evelyn linger close. Letting her whisper things only lovers should share.

A sharp breath slipped from Isabella's lips before she could stop it.

Nolan turned slightly, his gaze shifting toward the glass cabinet behind Evelyn.

Their eyes met in the reflection.

For a single, stretched-out second, the world held still.

Isabella's heart screamed at him to say something. To tell her it's not what it looks like. To give her a reason to stay.

But Nolan said nothing.

Not a word.

His silence was louder than any confession.

Isabella's fingers trembled as she stepped back. She didn't wait to hear more. Didn't need to.

Something inside her cracked, a deep, shattering that she knew could never be repaired.

This is it. This is the end.

She turned and walked away.

Down the hall. Down the stairs.

Each step she took felt lighter than the one before, as if a heavy weight had been removed from her chest.

As soon as she entered their bedroom, she quickly picked up her suitcase.

She didn't cry or delay.

She packed.

She folded the life she had created with him, one by one, into that one bag.

The diamond on her wedding ring emitted brightness on the nightstand, under the gentle light of the lamp.

Isabella picked it up and held it between her fingers, gazing at the symbol of a long-dead love.

Then, without thinking, she put it down.

That evening, Nolan remained locked with her in his study while the mansion lay quiet.

Isabella walked out the door.

And she never looked back.