Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Chapter 42

Sarah's

pov.

I didn't think much of it when Richard first started sending those messages. At first, it was a simple "Congrats on the deal!" or "Hope the expansion's going well!"

I'd glance at my phone, roll my eyes, and go back to my emails, telling myself that it was nothing. But slowly, those little check-ins started to pile up, and I couldn't ignore them. "Why is he doing this?" I muttered to myself one evening, staring at another message from Richard that read,

"Heard about your new office space! Sounds exciting!" My thumb hovered over the reply button for longer than I'd care to admit, but I put the phone down instead.

I wasn't about to start up a casual text relationship with my ex-husband like we were long-lost friends.

Emma's voice played in my head. "You're not a robot, Sarah." Right, not a robot. But still, I was trying to move on, and Richard's friendly little notes weren't helping. Days passed, and it didn't stop. It was always something small, nothing intrusive, but it was consistent.

No requests to meet up, no pressure. Just... support. Was this the same Richard?

One afternoon, I was in the middle of reviewing some financial reports when my phone buzzed again.

I glanced at it, fully expecting another Richard message, and wasn't wrong. This one was short: "Just saw the feature in the magazine. Proud of you."

I let out a groan. "Proud of me?" I muttered under my breath. Since when was Richard, Mr. Emotionally Constipated, proud of anything I did? The man barely noticed when we were married, and now he's a cheerleader?

Shaking my head, I fired off a quick reply without thinking: "Thanks." The moment I hit send, I regretted it. I didn't want to encourage him.

But then again, was it so bad that someone cared enough to check in? I sighed, feeling a strange mix of irritation and something else.

***

calendar for weeks. I was in no mood to go, but it was one of those things you couldn't

impress, and showed up, expecting the usual rounds of polite conversation and schmoozing.

with a glass of wine in hand, laughing

made a beeline for the door,

up. I could tell he wasn't sure how to approach me, like a kid testing the waters before jumping into

chuckled, and I hated that the sound of his laughter still got

myself for not finding an excuse to leave sooner. But then, Richard spoke up again, softer

doing well, Sarah. I've been keeping up with your business... and, well, I'm

but the words did something. I could feel my defenses cracking just

he'd said he was proud of me, and for some stupid reason, it felt... nice. Even though I didn't want it

said, trying to keep my voice

nodded, looking thoughtful. "I always knew you had it

wouldn't have admitted something like that. I didn't know what to say, so I went with the first thing

but there was something sad in his eyes. "Yeah, I

like we were two people just standing there, not exes with a tangled past, not a woman

well, though,"

to see if there was some angle, some hidden agenda. But I didn't see any

there, just as vulnerable as me. And for the

what you're trying to do. I really do. But we can't go back. I've worked hard to get to this point, and I'm not going to let anyone-especially you-get in the way of that." He nodded, but there was something hopeful in his expression. "I'm not asking for that. I just... I want

be friends? I wasn't sure, but I didn't have

smile. "But for now, let's just... keep it

with a

chatted a little longer, nothing deep-just small talk about business, the event,

let him waltz back into my life just because he was

lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation. For all the hurt Richard had caused, I couldn't