Back In The Arms Of My Billionaire Ex Husband

The ride home was silent, heavy with words left unsaid. Ashley sat with her hands tightly in her lap, staring at the tall buildings and trees passing by the window. Shadows and light flickered across her face, but she didn't move or speak.

 Before tonight, she might have tried to start a conversation, a small question about his day, a quiet comment about the weather, anything to bridge the distance. But after dinner, after the way he had left her sitting alone to talk to Reese, she didn't see the point anymore.

 From the corner of her eye, she caught him glancing at her. That faint smile from earlier still lingered on his lips. But it hadn't been for her. She could still see him at the house, leaning slightly closer to Reese, speaking in a voice softer than she had heard from him in months.

 She had watched the way his eyes warmed, the way his fingers brushed the table near hers as if they shared a secret.

 He hadn't even tried to hide it.

 She wanted to believe it meant nothing, that maybe they had been talking about something harmless. But Reese wasn't just an old friend. She was his childhood sweetheart, the girl his family had always wanted him to marry. And now she was here, not just in their lives, but in the center of their marriage.

 Her eyes turned blurry with tears, and just then, the car pulled into the driveway. As Dante turned off the engine, his phone lit up. Ashley's eyes flicked to the screen before she could stop herself.

 Reese.

 Her name was boldly written across the screen.

 He noticed. His gaze turned cold, sharp enough to make her look away.

 "We're here," he said quietly, his voice flat. "Get out."

 She stepped out without a word.

 Morning came too soon. Ashley stirred in bed, her fingers brushing the still-warm space beside her. He had been there recently, but now he was gone. On weekends, he was usually at the gym.

 She got up, dressed, and went downstairs. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the kitchen as she set breakfast on the table, trying to act like nothing had happened.

 "Good morning. Breakfast is ready," she said softly.

 Dante walked past her without a glance. From the living room, he picked up a file from the coffee table and came back. He dropped it on the dining table with a dull thud.

 Her brows furrowed. "What's this?"

 "Divorce papers." His voice was calm, too calm. His hands stayed in his pockets.

 Her breath caught. "For... who?"

 He gave her a look that made her chest tighten. "Do you see anyone else here? Just sign them."

 Her eyes burned. "But... why? What did I do? Did I do something wrong?"

 "Enough, Ashley." His voice didn't rise, but it cut like glass. "You're not enough for me. You came from an average family. You dropped out of school. You had a miscarriage. You're not fit to be my wife."

 Her lips trembled. "And that's my fault? I got pregnant because of us. I dropped out because your mother told me to after I lost the baby. You think I wanted any of this?"

 Dante's expression didn't change. "The only reason I agreed to marry you was because we were expecting a child. Now that the baby is gone, there's nothing left for me here."

 "Or you mean because Reese, your childhood sweetheart, is back. We've been married for a year, and losing the baby isn't new, but now you bring up divorce?"

 "You can say whatever you want, Ashley."

 Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor. "Don't do this to me, Dante..."

 He stepped past her as though she was in the way. "My decision is final."

 Her mind raced. She couldn't go back to her father's house, not to the drunken rages, not to the fear. She knew he would trade her away if it suited him.

 She looked down at her tummy, feeling completely helpless. She knew it was useless announcing the pregnancy to him now that all he could think of was Reese.

 Her eyes dropped to the papers, his bold signature on the dotted line staring back at her. Her hand shook as she picked up the pen. Refusing would only make him find another way to torture her. With her heart breaking, she signed.

 Upstairs, she packed her clothes into a suitcase. When she came back, Dante was lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone as if nothing had happened. She placed the papers on the nightstand.

 Standing in the doorway, she met his gaze one last time. "If my absence makes you happy, then you won't have to see me again. Go be with her."

 Holding the suitcase handle, she stepped away. Her knees felt weak, yet something deep inside kept her moving.

 She was only twenty.

 And she wasn't done yet.