We Divorced Now He Wants Me Back ( Billionaire Contract Wife)
Chapter 3
---
The next morning came too quickly.
I hadn’t slept. My eyes ached, my head throbbed, but I still forced myself up.
The air in the room was cold, heavy with silence. Elijah’s side of the bed was untouched.
He hadn’t come home.
I took a long shower, trying to wash away the ache in my chest. By the time I stepped into my office clothes — a soft beige blouse tucked into a dark pencil skirt my reflection already looked tired. Pale. Fragile.
But I had to go.
I couldn’t give Gwen the satisfaction of knowing I’d broken down.
When I arrived at Skydom Company.The reception area was busier than usual. Staff hurried about with anxious faces, adjusting decorations and banners. Something was happening.
“Ma’am!” My assistant, Clara, hurried up to me, her voice laced with excitement. “They said Ms. Gwen is coming in today. She’s meeting with the board. It’s about the new collaboration deal with the overseas branch.”
Gwen.
Of course.
She was Skydom’s darling — the charming PR consultant who had Elijah’s full attention and the shareholders’ praise. Beautiful, manipulative, and cunning. Everything came easily to her.
I swallowed my discomfort and nodded calmly.
“Thank you, Clara. Go ahead, I’ll join the meeting shortly.”
But as I turned toward the elevator, my stomach twisted.
Today, I would have to face her.
---
The boardroom gleamed with glass walls and polished tables.
Elijah sat at the head of the table, unreadable as ever in his navy suit. His fingers tapped his pen lazily, but his eyes — those sharp, cold eyes — didn’t lift when I entered.
“Good morning, everyone,” I greeted quietly, taking my seat near the end of the table.
“Ah, she’s here,” a voice sang.
Gwen.
She glided into the room as though she owned it — soft curls brushing her shoulders, lips painted in the perfect shade of confidence.
And beside her, Elijah’s gaze softened in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
That same softness I heard in his voice last night.
My heart clenched painfully.
She smiled sweetly at the board before her eyes flicked to me — mock surprise lighting her expression.
“Oh, Jenna,” she purred. “You’re here too? I didn’t expect to see you in this meeting. Isn’t this a bit above your position?”
A few of the executives exchanged awkward glances. One cleared his throat. “Mrs. Spencer is our senior design consultant. She’s part of the project development team.”
Gwen’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, right. I forgot. You’re still playing designer, aren’t you?”
Her tone dripped with sarcasm.
Elijah said nothing. Not a word.
He didn’t even look at me.
The silence burned.
I forced a small, polite smile. “Designing is still my job, Gwen. Even if some people forget it.”
Her lips twitched. “Of course.” Then she tilted her head innocently. “But shouldn’t you focus more on charity events and social dinners? Or perhaps… on keeping her husband company?”
The words were casual, but the message behind them was poisonous.
Everyone knew who Elijah spent his nights with.
A soft murmur rippled through the room. I kept my hands clasped tightly on my lap, nails digging into my skin beneath the table.
“I prefer work over gossip,” I replied calmly, though my throat burned. “It’s more productive.”
Gwen’s smile faltered for just a second before she masked it with a laugh. “Still as defensive as ever, I see. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Elijah’s pen tapped once, sharp against the table. “That’s enough,” he said coolly — but his tone wasn’t for her. It was directed at the room, not at Gwen. Not for me.
He wasn’t protecting me. He was ending the scene for his own convenience.
---
After the meeting, I gathered my files and turned to leave. My hands trembled slightly as I closed my laptop.
Behind me, Gwen’s laughter echoed.
“Oh, Jenna,” she called sweetly, “you should drop by my office later. I have some design drafts you might want to *approve*. After all, we wouldn’t want the company’s image to suffer, right?”
I knew exactly what she was doing — reminding everyone that I was beneath her, even though she wasn’t even officially part of the design team.
I straightened my back and met her gaze. “Of course,” I said softly. “Send them over. I’ll review them.”
She didn’t expect that. Her smile stiffened, but she quickly recovered, flipping her hair. “Perfect. See you then.”
Elijah finally looked at me, his eyes unreadable. “You can leave now, Jenna.”
And that was it.
No defense. No care. No trace of the man I once believed could feel anything for me.
---
By the time I reached my office, my hands were shaking.
I closed the door quietly behind me and sank into my chair, burying my face in my palms.
I wasn’t just humiliated — I was invisible.
A soft knock came moments later. Clara peeked in, holding a small cup of tea. “Ma’am, I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened out there. Ms. Gwen shouldn’t have said those things.”
I looked up at her and forced a small smile. “It’s fine, Clara. People like Gwen don’t change. They just find new ways to hurt others.”
She hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Everyone says she’s the reason Mr. Elijah even got married. That there was an arrangement between their families. Is that true?”
My lips parted, but no sound came out.
I wanted to tell her no. That there was more to it. That maybe — once — Elijah had cared, even a little. But lying felt heavier than silence.
“I should get back to work,” I whispered finally.
Hours passed. I stayed buried in design drafts, trying to focus on lines and colors instead of the ache in my chest.
When the office lights dimmed for the evening, I reached into my bag and touched the ultrasound photo again.
Three tiny lives. Two reasons to keep breathing.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my stomach. “Grandma Elise used to say love doesn’t always come wrapped in kindness. But I’ll give you all the love she gave me.”
I smiled faintly through tears. “You’ll never have to beg for it like I did.”
Outside my door, Gwen’s laughter drifted down the hallway again — bright, confident, poisonous.
And mixed with it was Elijah’s deep, familiar voice.
For a brief moment, I thought I’d break.
But instead, I stood up, straightened my blouse, and whispered to myself,
“You’re not her shadow anymore, Jenna. Not this time.”
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