All Chapters of DEAR EX-HUSBAND, YOU CAN NEVER HAVE ME BACK: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Olivia's pov I made my way to the car, my heels clicking against the pavement with a rhythm that matched the unsteady beat of my heart. The church faded behind me, its grandeur overshadowed by the weight of what had just happened. Lucas’s face, his raw anger and hurt, lingered in my mind, a haunting image I couldn’t shake. Did I really believe he didn’t kill Ryan? I wasn’t sure. Part of me wanted to trust him, to cling to the memory of the man who’d once been my everything, but another part—the part scarred by betrayal and suspicion—whispered that he was the only person on my side who might have the guts to kill someone. If he didn’t do it, then I had nothing to worry about. But if he did… the thought made my stomach twist, a cold dread settling in my bones.The drive home was a fast, my thoughts a chaotic swirl of doubt and guilt. I replayed our argument in the church—the way his voice had cracked, the way his eyes had burned with a mix of fury and desperation. Had I been too ha

Olivia’s POVAs Ryan's father stormed out of my office, I stood there, frozen, my hands still gripping the edge of my desk as if it were the only thing keeping me upright. His words—“You murderer! You killed my son!”—echoed in my head, a relentless assault that left my chest tight and my breaths shallow. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, and my legs trembled beneath me, threatening to give out entirely. I was shaken, more than I wanted to admit, the raw fury in his eyes searing into me like a brand. My heart pounded, a frantic rhythm that drowned out the hum of the office beyond my door, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure I could pull myself back together.But I had to. I couldn’t let this unravel me—not here, not now. With a shaky breath, I straightened, forcing my hands to release the desk, though my fingers ached from the strain. My mind raced, searching for a lifeline, something to anchor me in the chaos. Ryan’s father was a problem I couldn’t handle alone—not with his rag

My heart stopped, then slammed back to life, pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I spun around, staring at Amelia, her words—“I have evidence”—ringing in my ears like a gunshot. Shock ripped through me, cold and electric, freezing me in place as my mind scrambled to catch up. Evidence? What evidence? My hands trembled, my breath hitching, and I felt the world tilt beneath me.“What evidence?” I demanded, my voice rough, cracking with a mix of disbelief and rising panic. I took a step toward her, my eyes locked on hers, searching for some hint, some crack in her smug facade. “What the hell are you talking about, Amelia?”She stood there, her arms crossed, her lips curled into a tight, defiant smirk, her eyes gleaming with a menace that made my skin crawl. She didn’t answer—just stared at me, her silence a weapon sharper than any words. My chest tightened, frustration boiling up, hot and suffocating. “Answer me!” I snapped, my voice louder now, raw with the fear I couldn’t

Olivia's pov The kiss hung between us like a storm cloud, electric and untamed, its aftershock trembling through my lips, my veins, my very soul. We stood in Lucas’s office, the dim light casting jagged shadows across his face, his breath ragged, mirroring the frantic thudding of my heart. My hands lingered on his chest, pressed against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the wild, desperate beat beneath—alive, real, a rhythm that echoed the chaos tearing through me. My knees weakened, my breath shallow, as I drowned in his eyes—those hazel depths I’d once known better than my own, now stormy with guilt, longing, and a rawness that pierced me to my core. My chest ached, a hollow, searing pain, as every buried feeling I’d fought to suppress clawed its way back, overwhelming and unstoppable.He broke the silence first, his voice a jagged whisper, thick with regret and something deeper, something that cracked my heart open wider. “I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze dropping to the floor, h

Olivia's povAustin’s words hit me like a slap, sharp and searing, cutting through the quiet of the kitchen with a force that stole my breath. “Did you think anyone believed that silly lie you told?” he asked, his voice low, thick with anger, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my heart lurch. I froze, my hands gripping a damp dish towel, the air suddenly too heavy, too tight. Shock rippled through me, cold and electric, my pulse hammering in my ears as I registered the accusation in his tone. He knew—or at least suspected—and the realization sent a wave of panic crashing over me, my chest constricting with guilt and fear.“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice trembling, a weak attempt to feign ignorance despite the truth clawing at my throat. My fingers tightened around the towel, twisting it until my knuckles ached, as if the pain could ground me, keep me from unraveling.I knew exactly what he meant—the lie I’d told Ethan, the flimsy excuse about a business f