Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart
Chapter 13

Richard's

POV.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of my shirt. The room felt different these days. It was colder.

Susan had changed everything, from the curtains to the furniture. Even the staff moved differently around the house.

They used to smile more, chat a bit while they worked. Now, they were quieter, always with their eyes down, moving quickly and carefully.

Susan was stricter, and honestly, I didn't mind. I liked the order. I liked the discipline.

We had an event tonight-another one of those high-profile gatherings. Susan was going all out as usual.

She was already dressed, standing in front of the mirror in her silver gown, checking her reflection every few minutes.

"How do I look?" she asked again, turning slightly to see the back of her dress.

"You look stunning," I said, barely glancing at her. My focus was on replaceing my tie. It should've been right here in the closet, on the top shelf where it always was.

But it was gone. I frowned, digging through the shelves, and pushing aside shirts and scarves.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" Susan's voice cut through the room. "We need to leave in ten minutes."

"I can't replace my tie," I muttered, digging through the drawer. I could feel my patience wearing thin.

She sighed loudly and sat back down in front of the vanity, adjusting her hair. "Well, if you didn't keep things so haphazardly..."

Haphazardly? I stared at the neatly organized shelves. Susan had reorganized everything when she moved in.

She said it was for the best, that everything needed to be in its proper place. I didn't argue at the time.

She liked things a certain way, and I was fine with that. But now, here I was, standing in front of a wardrobe full of clothes and no tie.

I yanked open another drawer. Nothing. I glanced at the top shelf, then hesitated.

The ties used to be up there, in a small compartment, before Susan had moved things around.

My hand reached up automatically, only to replace it empty.

"You're wasting time," Susan said, not even bothering to look up. "Just grab another tie."

I fished around for a different one, but it felt off. They used to be a system, a way of knowing exactly where things were. Before.

Now, I couldn't even replace a simple tie without turning the whole wardrobe upside down.

A flash of memory hit me. Once, I was in the same situation, searching frantically for a tie before an important meeting.

Sarah had found me in the middle of my mess, calm as ever. She had pointed out where they were.

She never made a big deal of it, just said something like, "It's right there. So that you don't miss it, this would be the compartment for your ties." Sarah had set it up so I wouldn't have to scramble like this. She used to do things like that all the time. But back then, I never really noticed or cared. I grabbed a random tie, wrapping it around my neck quickly. I didn't care if it matched. I just needed to get out of here.

"Finally," Susan said, standing up and giving herself one last look in the mirror. "Let's go. We're already late."

"Right," I mumbled, tugging at the tie knot, which felt too tight around my neck.

As I followed Susan out of the room, I glanced back at the wardrobe, the sense of something being off nagging at the back of my mind.

It was just a tie. Why was this bothering me?

We walked down the stairs, Susan already ahead, heels clicking on the floor. She was always focused, always moving forward.

No room for little things. No room for stuff like organizing ties or making sure things were where they needed to be without making a big deal of it.

It was just a tie, I kept telling myself. Just a small thing.

But as I got into the car and pulled the door shut, I felt that tightness again, not just around my neck but somewhere deeper.

Susan talked about the event, going over who we'd see, and what we should say, but I barely listened.

I found myself staring out the window, trying to shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right, even though I couldn't put my finger on it. It didn't matter. It was just a tie, after all. Nothing more.

***

Susan and I made our way through the crowd, greeting people as we went.

The room was filled with the usual chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Susan clung to my arm, her smile was bright.

We walked back into the main hall, and the noise hit us again-laughter, clinking glasses, conversations overlapping.

Susan was by my side, her hand wrapped around my arm. The way she fit me like a cloth made my heart swell. Beautiful. Fierce. Disciplined.

"Richard!" A voice called out. We turned to see Ben, an old colleague, walking toward us with a grin on his face. "It's been a while. How's life treating you?" "It's been good, Ben," I said with a smile. "Busy, but good."

Ben gave a nod and then, almost too casually, added, "I heard about the divorce, that must be hard on you,"

I felt Susan's grip on my arm tighten. She forced a smile, but I could tell it was strained. "Everything's great," I replied quickly. "I'm moving forward."

Ben nodded, glancing at Susan. "Well, that's good to hear."

He looked around before whispering, "You really moved on fast, huh? There's been some talk... you know how people are."

Susan's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Ben hesitated, lowering his voice even more. "Just some folks wondering if... well, if maybe there was someone else before the divorce. You know how rumors start." Susan's face flushed red, and I could see she was on the edge of snapping. I gave her hand a quick squeeze, trying to calm her down.

"Ben, you know how people love to gossip," I said with a tight smile. "We don't pay attention to rumors," I said firmly.

"Of course, of course," Ben said, holding up his hands. "Didn't mean anything by it. Just... saying."

"Yeah," Susan said, her voice sharp. "We do."

Ben I excused himself, and we moved on, weaving through the crowd. I could feel Susan's anger simmering beneath the surface.

As we reached a quieter corner, an older man approached us. It was Mr. Johnson, one of the senior partners at the firm.

"Richard!" Mr. Johnson greeted me warmly, shaking my hand. "It's been too long. And who is this lovely lady?"

"This is Susan, my girlfriend," I said proudly. Susan's face lit up at my words, and she couldn't help but flaunt her diamond necklace and run a hand through her hair. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Susan," Mr. Johnson said politely, but his eyes lingered on her a bit too long.

Then he turned back to me. "I heard about your breakout...with Sarah. Sarah seemed like such a nice and sweet lady."

The mention of Sarah made Susan's smile fade instantly.

"She once helped me out of a real jam," Mr. Johnson continued, oblivious to the shift in mood.

"Remember on your wedding day, I met a Spanish client and had difficulty communicating with him."

He continued. "Sarah stepped right in, handled it like a pro, and didn't ask for anything in return. That was on her wedding day. I thought to myself, 'Richard found a gem.""

I felt Susan's grip tighten around my arm like a vice. I could practically hear her gritting her teeth.

"She was always so helpful," Mr. Johnson went on, still lost in his memories. "Really thought she was the best match for you."

Susan was trembling now, her face turning a shade of red that didn't suit her makeup.

Mr. Johnson finally seemed to notice the tension in the air. He glanced at Susan, his eyes traveling from her head to her feet, then back to me.

For a moment, he looked like he was struggling to replace the right words. Then, he simply said, "Well, I wish you both the best," before turning and walking away.

The moment he was out of earshot, Susan exploded. "Can you believe that?" she hissed, yanking her hand away from mine. "The nerve of these people! Who does he think he is, bringing her up like that?"

"Susan, calm down," I said, trying to steer her away from the crowd. But she was already storming toward the exit, her heels clicking sharply on the floor.

"No, Richard! I'm not going to stand here and listen to people talk about her like she's some saint!" she spat, not caring if people were staring.

"And what was with that look he gave me? Like I'm some... some second choice?"

"Susan, let's just go outside," I muttered, feeling eyes on us from every corner of the room.

I grabbed her arm, trying to lead her out before this turned into a bigger scene.

She shook me off, her eyes blazing. "I'm leaving." she snapped and stormed out the door.

For a moment, I just stood there, feeling a swirl of emotions I couldn't quite name.

Then, with a deep breath, I walked toward the exit, trying to push away the growing mess inside my head.