After divorce, my ex keeps chasing me

I signed the divorce papers with a hand that didn’t shake, but a heart that shattered with each stroke of ink. The sound of the pen against paper echoed in the silence of Kade's penthouse office—our former home, though it never really felt like one.

“You’re free now, Alina,” Kade said without looking at me.

His voice was low, detached, like he was reciting lines from a meeting agenda. He stood by the window with his back to me, tall and composed, wearing a charcoal gray suit that cost more than my brother’s last hospital bill. His hands were tucked into his pockets, the same way they were the night he offered me a one-year marriage contract like it was a business deal.

Maybe it was. It had always been a transaction.

“Freedom,” I murmured. It tasted like ash.

I placed the pen down gently and pushed the documents across the desk. They slid toward him like a final goodbye. He didn’t turn around.

A silence heavier than grief settled between us. For one crazy second, I wanted him to turn, to say something—anything. To tell me not to go. To confess it meant something to him too. But he didn’t, and I hated myself for hoping.

I stood, smoothed down my coat, and grabbed my bag. I walked toward the elevator without a single glance back. My heels clicked on the marble like a countdown to the end of a mistake I once called marriage. Just as I reached for the button, his voice stopped me.

“I’ll have your things sent to your new place.”

That was it. That was all I got. Not a thank you. Not even a goodbye. I didn’t turn. My voice was barely a whisper. “You don’t have to pretend you ever cared.”

This time, there was no reply.

OUTSIDE, the air was cruel and sharp. Winter in the city had a way of sneaking into your bones. I hailed a cab and told the driver an address I’d memorized in the last week. A tiny apartment across the river, far from his world of glass towers and private elevators.

The moment the door shut behind me in my new place, I dropped my bag and leaned against the wall. My breath came out in uneven bursts. It was over.

I was Alina Cruz again. No longer Mrs. Rivers. No longer the invisible wife who smiled politely at fundraisers while he discussed mergers. I slid down to the floor, hugged my knees, and let myself feel it.

I feel everything. The year of loveless nights. Of sitting alone at dinners he never came home for. Of losing myself in a marriage that was never real. And the worst part? Somewhere along the way, I had fallen for him.

I was stupid. He made it clear from day one. It was a deal—temporary, clean, and emotionless. He needed a wife to kill a scandal before his IPO. I needed money to pay for my brother Leo’s leukemia treatment. One year. That was the contract.

But feelings don’t follow contracts. I fell. He didn’t.

SIX days later, I stood in front of a mirror in a department store fitting room, staring at a version of myself I hadn’t seen in months. My long dark hair framed a sharper face. My body, no longer hidden behind modest luxury, now wore confidence.

I had an interview today. A real one. A fashion startup that wanted a lead designer. I’d put my dreams on pause for the marriage, but now they were knocking again. Just as I turned off the light in the fitting room, my phone buzzed.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Check your email. You’ve been requested for an exclusive design collaboration. NDA attached.

What the—? I opened the email. The client? Westmark Group.

My stomach flipped. That was Kade’s biggest competitor.

My hands trembled as I clicked the attachment. It was legit. The contract terms were generous, borderline unbelievable. A five-piece capsule collection, full creative control, and a salary that could pay for two more rounds of Leo’s follow-up treatments. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

My heart raced as a terrifying thought took hold.

Was Kade trying to buy me back... through his enemies?

I SHOWED up at the Westmark lobby the next morning, heels clicking, hair pinned, nerves buzzing. The receptionist gave me a warm smile and gestured toward the elevator.

“Top floor. Mr. Maddox will see you now.”

Mr. Maddox? I’d heard the name before and I couldn't be mistaken. He's Leo's not-so-close stepbrother, Julian Maddox. CEO. Young, wildly successful, and known for poaching anyone Kade Rivers ever valued.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a glass office with an unobstructed view of the skyline. A tall man stood at the window, back to me, holding a glass of something amber. His hair was dark, messy, and his posture screamed confidence.

Deja vu. He turned. Julian Maddox was nothing like Kade. Where Kade was cold steel and polished smiles, Julian was wildfire in a tailored suit. Sharp green eyes raked over me, pausing slightly at my neckline before settling on my face.

“Alina Cruz,” he said slowly, like tasting something rare. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I kept my voice level. “Is that so?”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re going to be very useful.”

I frowned. “Useful? How?”

He walked closer, his eyes gleaming. “Let’s just say I’ve been looking for the perfect weapon to put a crack in Kade Rivers’ empire. And you, darling... you were married to him. You know his taste. His weaknesses.”

I stepped back. “I’m not interested in being anyone’s weapon.”

Julian raised a brow. “Not even if it comes with everything you ever wanted? Full funding, your name on a label, and an apartment far better than that shoebox you’re in?”

My fingers curled into fists. He had me researched. Down to the walls I slept beside.

“What do you say, Ms. Cruz?” Julian asked, leaning closer. “Are you ready to make Kade regret ever letting you go?”

I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t know what scared me more, that I wanted to say no… Or that a small, broken part of me still wanted to say yes.