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

Chapter 113

Sarah

pov.

I purposely did not bring up the photos that I saw in Isabelle's belongings yet because I need to have just more than pictures to prove her wrong.

At first, I convinced myself it was paranoia. After everything Richard and I had been through, wasn't it natural to be a little on edge?

But the coincidences kept piling up, each one more unsettling than the last.

I sat on the edge of our bed that morning, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair looked dull, my skin paler than usual. I felt off-nauseous even-but I told myself it was the stress. "Sarah, you can't keep ignoring this," I muttered to myself, running a hand over my face. I hadn't been sleeping well, and the tension in the house was eating away at me.

When Richard appeared in the doorway, I forced a smile. "Morning," I said, but my voice sounded weak even to me.

"Morning," he replied, leaning against the frame. "You look tired."

"Gee, thanks," I said dryly.

He chuckled softly and walked over to kiss my forehead. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just... worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately."

I wanted to tell him everything-about Isabelle, about my suspicions-but I hesitated.

Every time I tried, Isabelle managed to twist things in her favor. I wasn't sure Richard would believe me anymore.

"I'm fine," I said instead, brushing him off. "Just a lot on my mind."

Later that day, while folding laundry, memories began creeping back.

At first, it seemed like a strange coincidence-Richard and I were in Hawaii and we met her there, on the beach while trying to have a picnic.

Meanwhile Richard had met her earlier. I remember she was staring right at us, pretending not to notice us until Richard waved at her.

shyly, acting hesitant, like she didn't want to interrupt. I didn't think much of it then, though a small voice in

cafe where we dined, claiming her bag had been stolen and she had nowhere to stay, I couldn't ignore the prickling doubt in my mind. Richard, ever

a week. A week turned into

Back to present.

made my morning coffee without asking how

you go," she said brightly, handing me

I murmured, taking a cautious sip. It was exactly how I liked it-two sugars, a splash of cream, the tiniest pinch of cinnamon. I hadn't told her that. "Did Richard tell

laughed lightly. "Oh, no. I just

It didn't sit right with me, but I let it

week, I knew I needed to talk

friend and our family lawyer, he had a way of seeing things clearly. When I called him, I didn't mention Isabelle

to

course," Martins replied. "Want to meet at my

afternoon. Martins was sitting behind his desk, his tie loosened like he'd been dealing with

your mind, Sarah?" he asked,

hesitated, unsure of where to begin. "It's

"Isabelle? The woman

showing up, knowing things she

in his chair, his brow furrowed.

playing some kind of game. I don't know what her end goal is, but I don't trust

a bitter laugh.

desk, considering my words.

pictures of Richard in her room," I admitted. "But they are not

slowly. "Alright. Keep me updated. And, Sarah... be careful.

suspicions grew stronger. Isabelle wasn't just trying to fit in-she was trying

she became this picture of helpfulness, cooking dinner, tidying

to the way she glanced at

smell of coffee, which I usually loved, made