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

Chapter 144

Sarah

pov.

The house was quiet, the kind of quiet I hadn't felt in weeks.

It was almost strange how still everything seemed after Marina's departure, like the air itself had stopped bristling with her constant comments and hovering presence.

I sat at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of chamomile tea. The warmth spread through me, but my thoughts kept drifting back to her-what she'd said, what she'd implied, and the way it all made me feel.

I'd been so relieved when she left, but now that the dust was settling, I couldn't shake this uncomfortable feeling in my chest. It wasn't just about her words.

It was the way they made me question things I thought I'd been confident about.

"Everything okay?" Richard's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching me.

I nodded, but it was more out of habit than conviction. "Yeah. Just thinking."

He walked over, pulling out the chair beside me and sitting down. His hand reached for mine, warm and steady. "Thinking about her? Again?" he asked gently, like he already knew the answer.

I sighed, staring down at my tea. "It's not like I'm trying to. But, yeah. I keep replaying everything she said. Not just her comments about the baby, but... I don't know, the way she made me feel like I'm not doing anything right." Richard frowned, his thumb rubbing circles over the back of my hand. "Sarah, you're doing everything right. You don't have to let her get into your head like this. She doesn't live here. She doesn't live our life."

it's hard to just brush it off, you know? She kept saying things like she was trying to help, but it didn't feel like help. It

really think she's someone whose opinion matters? I mean, honestly, what

me square in the chest. He was right-Marina's opinions weren't gospel, and yet I'd let them take root like they were.

scared of. What if I'm not good enough? What if I mess

on my hand tightened,

anything up. Sarah, you're going to be an amazing mom. And trust me, I know this for a fact because I see the way you care, how much thought you put into everything. That's what's going to make the difference." His words settled something inside me, like a knot finally starting to loosen. I gave him a small smile, the corners of my mouth trembling

laundry, a package arrived. Richard brought it into the living room, holding it up like it was some kind of prize. "Looks like it's for you," he

baby care book with an intimidatingly long title: How to Be the Perfect Parent: A Comprehensive Guide to Raising Happy, Healthy Children.

great," I muttered, holding up the book like it was something radioactive. "This has her name

of the couch, peering

through the pages, skimming a few sentences here and there. The tone was just as I expected-authoritative, prescriptive, and full of phrases like never, always, and must. I could practically hear Marina's

around to sit beside me. "You know what? This

raised an

dramatically. "Because now you can look at this and laugh instead of letting it get to you." I stared at him, then at the book, and back again. He had a point. Marina's attempt to "help" was so over the

leaning back against the couch with a laugh. "This is

book onto the

evening, we sat on the porch watching the sunset. The sky was painted in

beside me, his arm draped over the back of my chair. "You've been quiet

I assured him quickly. "I've just been... thinking. About everything. About her. About

his eyes soft and

people like her make me question