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

Chapter 47

Richard's

pov.

It had started out simple, really. Just a couple of dinners here and there, an event or two where we both had to be for work.

Casual, nothing heavy. Sarah had made it clear, so many times, that we were just friends. I was just as tired as you are, but you know Sarah; she kept singing it anytime we were getting close. And I kept telling myself that I was fine with that. But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to ignore the growing connection between us.

We'd slip into these easy conversations, like we'd never been apart. I'd watch her laugh, really laugh, and I couldn't help but feel this warmth inside me.

It was a laugh I hadn't heard in years, and it was always genuine when we were alone. And yet, every time things got too comfortable, I'd see her pull back.

It was like there was a wall between us, and no matter what I did, I couldn't get past it.

One night, we were out at this industry event, surrounded by people we knew but didn't really care about.

Sarah was standing by the bar, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that made my chest ache.

She always did that-just existing like she wasn't the most captivating person in the room. I made my way over, hoping to steal a moment away from the noise. "Need a refill?" I asked, gesturing to her empty glass.

She smiled softly. "Yeah, why not? But nothing too strong. I have meetings tomorrow."

I nodded and signaled the bartender. As we stood there, shoulder to shoulder, I couldn't help but feel how natural it was.

Like we were supposed to be doing this, sharing drinks, stealing quiet moments. It was easy, and that scared me. Because the easier it felt, the harder it was to pretend that I didn't want more. "So," she said, turning slightly to face me, "how's everything going with the new investments?"

"Good, actually. Thanks to you." I smiled at her, but she just shook her head.

"Don't put that on me, Richard. You've been doing the work."

"Maybe," I said, handing her the drink, "but you've been there. I haven't done this alone."

She looked at me, her expression softening. There it was again-that flicker of something more.

it, she glanced away, changing the subject

she said after a long pause, "I'm not sure if I'll stay much longer. These things always drag on, and I'm

if you want. Grab a late

I thought she might say no. But then she nodded. "Okay, yeah. That

***

quiet little place, tucked away from

she did the same. It felt like old times before everything had gone

talked about work, about life, about things that didn't really matter. But

stupid-I knew she could feel it too. But every time I tried to push, even just a little, she'd shut it down.

from her plate, her eyes

I should go there. But we'd been dancing around it for too long, and I couldn't keep pretending everything was fine. "About us. About

wasn't going to answer. But then she sighed, setting it down and looking at me. "Of course I do," she said quietly. "How could I

hard. "I've been thinking

anything, just waited for me to continue. So

wasn't fair to you, Sarah. I know that now. I was...

that hadn't been there before. "You hurt me, Richard," she said, her voice steady but quiet.

of her words settle heavily between us.

mean to, but you did it anyway. And for a long time, I blamed myself for that. I thought there was

hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn't argue with her. She was right. I had done that to her, made her feel like

was, she had always been more than enough. I had

you to know

headache. "I don't know, Richard. It's not that simple. You can't just say you've changed and expect everything

know that," I said quickly. "I'm not asking for everything to be okay. I'm just...

looked at me, and for the

the one she always kept up, was starting to crack. But just as

back, Richard," she said softly. "There's too much

asking to go back," I said, leaning forward. "I'm asking to move forward. As friends,

eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw her wavering. But then

don't know if I can trust you again," she admitted,

across the table, my hand hovering over hers before finally resting on it. "I know. And I'll spend as long as