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

Chapter 112

Richard's POV

Living with Sarah and Isabelle under one roof felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of fire. No matter what I said or did, someone was bound to get burned. Sarah's mood had soured over the past few weeks, her usual warmth replaced by sharp glares and clipped words.

Isabelle, on the other hand, wore this perpetual mask of sweetness that was starting to feel... off.

"Richard," Sarah said one morning, her voice low but edged. She was standing by the sink, her hand gripping the counter like it was the only thing keeping her upright. "Can we talk?" I can keep count of the "can we talk?" from her.

I sighed, setting my coffee down. Here we go again. "Sure. What's wrong now?"

She flinched at my tone, but her expression hardened. "It's Isabelle. I can't do this anymore. She's too... involved."

"Involved?" I echoed, frowning. "She's just trying to be helpful."

Sarah's laugh was bitter, humorless. "Helpful? Richard, she knows things about us that we never told her. She's always around you, always watching. Don't you think that's strange?" "She's just observant," I said, though even as I said it, I felt a flicker of doubt. Isabelle had been unusually attentive lately, but I wasn't ready to turn that into something sinister. Sarah shook her head. "You're blind to it because she acts so sweet around you. But I see her for what she is. She's not some poor woman down on her luck-she's manipulative." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to stay calm. "Sarah, you're tired. This whole situation is stressful for you, I get that. But Isabelle's not the enemy here." Her eyes narrowed. "You're defending her. Again."

"I'm not-" I stopped myself, realizing that raising my voice wasn't going to help. "Look, I'll talk to her, okay? If something she's doing is bothering you, I'll handle it."

"You won't," Sarah said, her voice soft now but full of disappointment. "You're too busy trying to be the good guy."

The tension didn't let up. If anything, it got worse.

Isabelle's behavior, which I'd written off as friendly, started to feel more calculated. She had this way of stepping into my personal space, touching my arm when she spoke or handing me things I didn't ask for. "Your coffee, Richard," she said one morning, setting a mug in front of me.

made-just the right amount of cream and no sugar. "Thanks, but how did

with a shy smile, like it was no big deal. "I like paying attention to the little

left me uneasy. She'd

stopped in her tracks, her gaze darting between me and Isabelle. "Am I

up and moving

eyes lingered on Isabelle, who gave her the same sweet smile she always did. "Good morning, Sarah,"

Sarah didn't respond.

***

was becoming impossible to ignore. She'd been pale and sluggish lately, and every time I asked if she was okay, she brushed it off. "I'm fine," she insisted one afternoon, though she looked

"You've been off for weeks now. Maybe you should

steel returned. "I don't need a doctor, Richard. I need Isabelle

the energy for another argument." Sarah stared at me like I'd just slapped her. "You think I'm making

that," I said quickly, though the look on her face told me I might

"Clearly, I

days later, I came home to find Sarah sitting on the couch with a stack of papers in her lap. Her hands were trembling, and her face was pale.

didn't look up.

Yet again.

sitting down beside her. "What's this

her expression

the papers down. "No. We

Isabelle said, stepping into the room. "I was wondering if you two wanted me to make dinner tonight. I have this amazing

Sarah, whose lips were pressed into a thin line. "That sounds great," I said, hoping to defuse