We Divorced Now He Wants Me Back ( Billionaire Contract Wife)

The Next Morning

The next morning, I woke to the soft shuffle of footsteps.

My eyes fluttered open just in time to see Elijah stepping out toward the balcony, his phone pressed to his ear.

It had been two days since I last saw my husband.

Only the sound of his call with my cousin still echoed in my head.

My heart skipped a beat. He never went out there unless he wanted privacy unless he wanted to make a call.

I pulled my knees to my chest, sitting silently on the bed, my breath caught in my throat. Through the open glass doors, his voice drifted back to me—low, tender, almost a whisper.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there… Make sure you take care of yourself… I won’t be late, I promise.”

His tone softened, almost coaxing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you yesterday.”

Each word sliced through me. My chest tightened as though invisible hands were squeezing the life out of me. That wasn’t the way he ever spoke to me.

With me, he was cold—short replies, rude retorts, or sometimes complete silence. He’d walk away, leaving me standing there, looking foolish.

But with her, his voice turned to honey. Gentle. Patient.

I pressed a trembling hand against my chest. The pain was unbearable.

He spoke for what felt like hours, while I sat there—his wife, carrying his children—listening to his affection pour out to another woman.

My mind dragged me back to years ago, when I was still in high school.

My father’s company was collapsing, money was tight, and my parents decided to send me away.

They said it was “for my own good.”

But I knew the truth.

They didn’t want the burden of me anymore.

My mother only had eyes for **Gwen**, her precious daughter from her second marriage. Gwen could do no wrong.

My father never questioned her, even when she lied, even when she made my life miserable.

I had no one—no one except **Grandmother Elise**.

She took me in without hesitation. Her small, creaky house smelled of dried herbs and old books.

She’d brush my hair each night and whisper, *“You’re worth more than the world’s cruelty, Jenna. Don’t ever forget that.”*

Those words kept me alive.

She was the one who helped me through college, who stood by me when everyone else turned their backs.

But when she passed away during my final year, the world felt darker, emptier.

I was alone again.

I worked small jobs to survive—waitressing, tutoring, cleaning—but life had other plans.

My father’s company crashed completely, and I found myself begging for help—not from my parents, who ignored my calls—but from strangers.

---

The sound of **Elijah’s** voice pulled me back to the present.

He walked into the room, still on the phone, passing right by the bed where I sat.

> “I’ll make a reservation for you at your favorite restaurant… to make it up to you,” he murmured.

Snap. Something inside me snapped.

Right in front of me—his wife—he was coaxing another woman.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. My lips trembled with words I couldn’t speak.

The announcement I had wanted to make—the one about our children—died in my chest.

I said nothing. Just stared at him.

The room felt too small, the walls pressing in on me. My lungs screamed for air.

I stood abruptly and walked past him, pushing open the balcony doors.

Cold wind slapped my face—sharp, merciless—dragging a sob from me before I could stop it.

The city lights twinkled below, as if mocking me.

As if there was nothing wrong in the world.

---

The balcony door slid open again. **Elijah’s** tall figure stepped out.

> “You look sick,” he remarked, his gaze flicking over me. His voice was flat, devoid of the warmth I had just heard minutes ago. “You should go see our family doctor.”

I turned my face away, quickly wiping my eyes, but I knew he could still see the pale reflection of me in the glass.

> “Don’t disgrace the Markston family with your ghost look,” he added coldly.

My control snapped.

I spun around, eyes burning.

> “Would you say that to *Gwen*?” I asked, my voice trembling with hurt.

His jaw tightened. His eyes flashed.

> “Don’t you dare call her name. You’re not worth it.”

The words pierced deeper than knives.

> “Oh, right. I forgot.”

My voice shook, breaking apart.

> “This is all just a marriage of convenience. An arrangement.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

> “I’m not worthy. I’m just the girl you married because you needed a stand-in. A cover. An executive designer playing your wife in name only.”

> “This was what you signed up for. Don’t act like you were forced into it,” **Elijah** snarled, his tone sharp enough to cut skin.

I laughed again, but it came out more like a cry.

> “A stand-in. A contract. That’s what our two years of marriage mean to you?”

He stared at me, cold as ice.

> “Exactly. That’s what it is. No feelings attached. Make sure you always remember rule number one.”

Rule number one.

At the mention of it, my hands moved instinctively to my stomach. Panic gripped me.

He didn’t notice—didn’t care.

He just turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, as if I were something that irritated him.

---

I stumbled back into the bedroom and collapsed under the covers.

My tears, the ones I had held back all night, finally broke free.

My mind replayed two years ago, when the scandal broke in his company.

The shareholders and executives had pressured him to marry—to fix his reputation and calm the chaos.

**Gwen** had been sick then, fragile and untouchable in everyone’s eyes.

And I had been desperate—alone, jobless, and grieving Grandmother Elise.

I worked myself to exhaustion, but it was never enough.

Until one day, I received a message from **NTX Company**—**Elijah’s** company.

They told me I was employed.

I hadn’t even submitted a résumé. How had they known about me?

Later, I found out.

It was all **Gwen’s** doing.

She wanted to watch me suffer—to live as someone’s shadow.

To marry into a life that was nothing but a beautiful, suffocating cage.

---

The sound of a car engine roared from outside. I froze under the blanket.

Of course. He was leaving. Off to see his heartthrob.

He had already made reservations for her. Wonderful.

I went to where I hid the ultrasound.

Three tiny dots on the paper

My babies. My light.

Tears blurred my vision as I hugged the blanket tighter around me, pressing the phone

to my chest.

>“You’re my all,” I whispered to the picture, a shaky smile breaking through.I promise… I’ll protect you. Even if it costs me my last breath.”