My Ex Husband

Dylan POV

I arrived at the office, the days stretched on with no news of Charlotte's whereabouts. I sank into my chair, unable to shake the gnawing worry that consumed my thoughts. I had been fine before so why was this absence affecting me so deeply? The silence left by Charlotte's absence felt suffocating, and my attempts to reach her had been met with an unyielding wall of silence.

Rising from my chair, I made my way to the window, seeking solace in the world outside. Folding my arms, I gazed out, the bustling cityscape offering little distraction from my concerns. Suddenly, the shrill ring of the telecom pierced the heavy air, jolting me from my reverie. Irritation flaring, I strode to the telecom and answered the call sharply, "What is it?" I demanded, brusque with impatience.

"Sir, Mrs. Harmon is here to see you," Charles, my assistant, informed me.

"Charlotte?" I interjected, hope flickering to life within me.

"Yes, sir. She wants to meet with you," Charles confirmed.

"Thank goodness. That means she's okay. Let her in," I instructed Charles before ending the call.

As I settled into my chair, awaiting Charlotte's arrival, my heart raced with an unexpected fervor. It felt as though I were a teenager meeting their crush for a long-awaited date. I couldn't quite grasp why she was here, but the overwhelming relief of knowing she was safe consumed my thoughts. It struck me that her well-being had become an inexplicably vital concern to me, a stark departure from my previous indifference.

Moments later, the door swung open, and there she stood Charlotte, exuding an effortless grace in a black off-shoulder gown that hugged her figure in all the right places. As she entered the room, I found myself captivated by her beauty, a realization that seemed to dawn on me for the first time. Her light skin glowed, complemented by the cascade of long, dark hair framing her elegant, oval face. Her brown eyes held a depth that drew me in, and her lips, set against smooth skin, seemed to exude a quiet allure that I had somehow overlooked before.

"Why the hell haven't I noticed this before?" I questioned myself, perplexed by my new appreciation for her striking features.

Charlotte strode into the room in style, the click of her heels shattering the silence. "You finally showed up after days, huh?" I quipped, attempting to break the tension with a hint of levity.

However, Charlotte's demeanor remained stoic, her eyes and expression turning cold and distant. "Sorry for disturbing you. I just need a few minutes of your time," she stated, her tone devoid of its usual warmth, as though we were nothing more than business associates.

"Alright," I acquiesced, trying to conceal my surprise at her sudden formality. "Go ahead, then. What is it?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued as she withdrew a file from her bag and placed it firmly on my desk.

I glanced up at her, my confusion mounting. "What is this?" I asked, my gaze returning to the enigmatic woman standing before me.

"This is the divorce papers. I need your signature," Charlotte stated, her words landing like a heavy blow.

"What?" I sputtered, my mind reeling as I searched her icy gaze for any hint of emotion, finding none.

After a heavy silence, Charlotte informed me that she had signed her portion of the divorce papers and requested that I do the same.

I was taken aback; the calm, loving woman who had always sought to please me had turned unexpectedly cold. The joy I had felt upon seeing her was swiftly replaced by a sense of gloom. I had anticipated her return, not her desire to leave me. I couldn't fathom her audacity. "I can't believe she wants to finalize the divorce," I muttered to myself, a surge of disbelief and hurt coursing through me. "Why so fast? Does she hate me this much?" I pondered, grappling with the sudden turn of events.

I had held onto the hope that she would reconsider, but here I was, faced with divorce papers instead. I glanced up at her, hoping for a glimpse of remorse or hesitation, but her gaze remained fixed on the papers before me. "How cruel," I lamented silently, her decision settling upon me.

The once vibrant spark in Charlotte's eyes had faded, replaced by a resolute determination to leave. It was clear that she was unhappy, and attempting to coerce her into staying would only bring misery to both of us. "She can go if she wants," I reasoned with myself, acknowledging the fleeting sense of care I held for her well-being.

I reached for the file, drawing it closer and methodically sifting through its contents. Doubt nagged at me as I scrutinized the divorce papers, ensuring their authenticity and legitimacy. Once satisfied, I located the section requiring my signature and proceeded to sign it. With a sense of detached finality, I nudged the papers across the table to Charlotte's side.

To my surprise, Charlotte accepted the papers and swiftly exited my office, without a word to me for real.

Sitting back in my chair, I was dumbfounded. Was that it? Was it really over just like that? Would I never see her again? Did this mean she was now my ex-wife? Had I made a mistake? Maybe I should have swallowed my pride and ego and tried to stop her from leaving, or maybe I shouldn't have signed those papers. "What have I done?" I muttered to myself. "Is it too late to want her back, or is it too early? I don't care anymore. I just need to do something."

With a sudden burst of determination, I leaped from my chair and dashed out of my office, not caring about the curious eyes that followed me. I sprinted out of the company building and spotted Charlotte about to step into a cab. "Charlotte!" I called out desperately, but she didn't respond. Ignoring the stares of onlookers, I pushed myself to run faster, reaching out to her.

As I approached, I saw Charlotte close the cab door without getting in, and the driver sped away. Then I noticed her faltering, moving backward as if she were staggering.

"Charlotte, please!" I pleaded, gasping for breath. She turned to face me, her eyes filled with surprise. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice tinged with emotion.

"I want you back," I blurted out, my heart pounding in my chest. "I can't let you go like this. I've made a mistake, and I need to make it right. Please, give me another chance."

"You wish" was her statement.

Charlotte POV

As I asked myself why I felt so unwell, my head spun and discomfort spread through me. The pain in my stomach was unbearable, rendering me unable to move or even step into the waiting taxi. I closed the door and instructed the cab driver to leave. After the vehicle departed, I attempted to move, only to stagger back, my senses reeling. It was then that I heard Dylan's voice. His plea for another chance seemed absurd after what he had put me through. "You wish!" I retorted, feeling weak and unsteady.

Realizing that going to the hospital would take too long, I knew that finding a pharmacy was my best option. Dylan reached out to touch my arm, but I pushed his hands away. "Don't touch me," I snapped, my frustration mounting.

"What's wrong with you? You look pale," Dylan observed, concerned creeping into his voice.

"What do you care?" I shot back, moving away. I struggled to maintain my balance, but then I nearly stumbled to the floor before Dylan swiftly caught me and drew me close. Overwhelmed by weakness, I found myself unable to move any further.

Suddenly, Dylan lifted me off my feet, and as he held me, all I could think about was hoping he wouldn't discover that I was pregnant. I prayed that I wouldn't lose consciousness.