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

Richard

pov.

The morning of the trial felt heavy. I left the hospital earlier than usual, making sure Zoe would stay with Sarah.

Despite the overwhelming dread, there was a part of me that felt strangely numb, as if my emotions had run dry after weeks of worry and anger.

Martins met me outside the courthouse, impeccably dressed in his usual sharp suit. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his touch grounding.

"Today's a big step forward," he said. "Remember, this trial is about getting justice, not reopening wounds. You're here to see Susan held accountable, not to punish yourself for her actions."

I nodded, though his words didn't settle the unease churning in my gut.

The courtroom was cold, and even though I'd prepared myself for this moment, seeing Susan seated across the room made my stomach twist.

She didn't look like someone riddled with guilt; she looked indifferent, like this was just another ordinary day.

The prosecution opened with a detailed timeline of events, recounting how Susan had manipulated Isabelle and infiltrated every aspect of my life to orchestrate her revenge.

It was clinical, precise, and damning.

But when Susan took the stand, she was composed, even defiant.

"I didn't want to hurt Richard," she began, her voice smooth and unwavering. "I loved him. I still do. But Sarah... she took him away from me. Twice."

unreadable, but I

chick in their relationship the first time and Mr. Wright ended your relationship before he got back with

bitter smile. "He may not admit it,

then, his voice calm but firm. "Ms. Susan, are you saying you orchestrated this entire ordeal because you believe Mr. Wright

caught off guard. "I... No,

to convince her that Sarah was a threat. Isn't that correct?" Susan

your guidance. Under your manipulation. You planted those ideas and used Isabelle as a

fell silent as Susan's mask finally

because she deserved the truth. Richard was mine, and Sarah took him away. She needed to understand that she

sledgehammer. All this time, I'd thought her actions

was obsession, a warped sense of entitlement that had festered into something

to solidify the case against her. The prosecutor took over, asking Susan about her plan to infiltrate my home and her decision to involve Isabelle. She admitted to both but tried to deflect blame, insisting she hadn't intended for anyone to get hurt. "She fell down

of the bench, my knuckles white. It took

the session adjourned, Martins pulled me aside. "We're making progress,"

her. But we can't let our guard down. The defense will likely try to shift the blame entirely onto

even possible?" I asked, my

we have," he assured me. "But they'll try. We have

Susan's words over and over in my head, each

so still nearly broke me all over again. I sat down beside her,

I whispered, though I knew she couldn't hear me. "She admitted everything. She's going to pay for what she did, Sarah. I promise you

next court session were agonizing. I spent most of my time at the hospital, alternating between watching over Sarah and

kept me sane with her lighthearted banter, though I could see the worry etched

pursuit of justice, diving