All Chapters of Regrets From Ex Won't Win Me Back: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The media circus was exactly what you'd expect - all flashing cameras and fake smiles. Isabella walked in wearing that red dress, the one that had been hanging in her closet forever because Richard always said it was "too much." His face when he saw her? Priceless. That little muscle in his jaw twitched while he tried to keep his perfect smile in place."Such an... interesting choice," he'd said through gritted teeth.She just smiled, letting the silence do the work.The divorce papers felt surreal under her fingers. Just a few signatures and it was done. Years of control, manipulation, and pain - all ended with a couple of pen strokes while reporters snapped photos of their "amicable separation."Hey." Seth's voice was gentle as they left the building through a side exit. "You okay?"Isabella nodded, letting out a long breath. "I just... I did it.""You did." Seth smiled. "And you look incredible doing it."A small laugh escaped her. "The dress was worth it just to see his face.""Co

Isabella's head was pounding when she dragged herself to the kitchen. Between yesterday's coffee marathon at work and the wine she had with Seth's pasta last night, her body was staging a full-scale rebellion. She was looking like she'd gone ten rounds with a tornado. Her hair was sticking up in ways that defied gravity, and her usually crisp blouse looked like it had lost a fight with the dryer. "Coffee," she mumbled, making a zombie-like beeline for the coffee maker. "Need coffee." "Whoa there." Seth appeared out of nowhere, blocking her path. Unlike her, he looked annoyingly perfect in his suit, like he'd stepped straight out of a magazine cover. She swayed slightly, and his hand instinctively reached out to steady her. "Morning," she managed, aiming for normal and missing by a mile. “You look..." "Like death warmed over?" Isabella squinted at him. "Trust me, I know." "I was going to say 'in need of fresh air,' but..." His lips twitched. "Don't." She pressed her f

Isabella sat cross-legged on her bed, her phone propped against her knees as she scrolled through Catherine Fox's Instagram. Each photo was more flawless than the last - Catherine at premieres, Catherine at charity galas, Catherine on vacation in the Maldives. Her figure was perfect in every shot, all elegant lines and graceful poses.“God, even her casual photos look like magazine covers," Isabella muttered, clicking through more pictures. "Look at that waistline...and those legs..." She flopped back against her pillows with a groan. "Who even looks like that at breakfast? She is so perfect.”Isabella glanced down at herself, then back at the phone. "What am I even doing?" she muttered, tossing her phone aside. She got up and stood in front of her closet mirror, really looking at herself. Her reflection stared back - the same face she had seen every morning, but somehow different now. Her wardrobe suddenly seemed...lacking"This is ridiculous," she told her reflection. "I am not doin

Isabella sat still, her mother's words still ringing in her ears. The phone slipped from her shaking hands and hit the table. Three days. They expected her to survive three days of their poison."Here." Seth's voice was gentle as he pressed a glass of water into her hands. She had not even noticed him move to the kitchen."They want me there for the whole weekend." Her laugh was hollow.So..." Seth's voice was gentle. "Are you going?"Isabella took a shaky sip of water. "I have to go.""No, you don't." Seth knelt in front of her, his eyes fierce. "These people threw you to the wolves once. They will do it again.""That is exactly why I have to go." Isabella set the glass down with a sharp click. "If I skip this family event, they would paint me as the evil ex-wife who can not handle seeing them happy. The poor, bitter woman who lost everything." Her voice cracked. "I am tired of being their cautionary tale."Seth’s expression softened. “I understand wanting to reclaim your narrative,

The sound of shattering glass echoed through Eliza and Richard's hotel room. "Are you even listening to what I am saying?" Eliza's voice trembled. "Or are you too busy thinking about how cozy and loved up they looked in the elevator?" Richard stood by the window, his jaw tight. "Do not start." "Start? Start what? Tell me Richard. I saw how you looked at her. Like you are dying of thirst and she is the last drop of water on earth." Eliza's laugh was bitter. "And here I am, carrying your child, watching you pine over a woman who could not—" "Enough!" Richard spun around. "You are being—" "What? Paranoid? Hormonal?" She cradled her belly protectively. "I saw you flinch every time she laughed at his jokes. The great Richard Stone, reduced to watching his ex-wife move on while his pregnant lady is right beside him.“ "I do not want to have this conversation." "Of course you do not! Because God forbid we talk about how you are still hung up on her while I am growing your baby inside m