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.

***

no mood to go, but it was one of those things you couldn't skip without

expecting the usual rounds of polite

the bar with a glass of wine

and made a beeline for the door, but

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

sound of his laughter still got

moment, and I mentally kicked myself for not finding an excuse to leave sooner. But

I've been keeping up with your business... and, well, I'm proud of

my eyes, 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.

my voice neutral. "It's

had it in you.

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

something sad in

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

well, though," he added.

looked at him, trying to see if there was some angle, some hidden agenda. But I

as me. And for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel angry. I just

to this point, and I'm not going to let anyone-especially you-get in the way of that." He nodded, but

wasn't sure, but I didn't have the energy

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

repeated with a smile.

small talk about business, the event,

to let him waltz

I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation. For all the hurt Richard had