All Chapters of Dear Ex, I'm More Than Your Plan B: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Asher couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face, soft, a little stunned, deeply affected.Vera, the hurricane in heels, the woman who fought every emotion like it owed her a debt… asleep against him, unguarded.He didn’t move right away. Just looked.She was so different like this. Not because her sharpness was gone, but because the fire in her had quieted to something tender. She looked… young. Not in age, but in vulnerability. And beautiful in that disarming way that made his throat tighten.He didn’t know when he had started falling for her.Maybe it was the first time she’d looked at him like she could read through every lie he’d ever told. Maybe it was when she stood in that banquet hall, proud and unapologetic even when the world tried to make her small.Or maybe, maybe it was right now, when she let herself rest against him without a word, trusting him with her sleep.He gently slid his arm behind her, adjusting so he could stand.Vera stirred slightly, mumbling somethin

Asher rinsed his face, brushed his teeth with the minty toothpaste she wasn’t kidding about, and let the cold water wash away the grogginess of the night.When he came out a few minutes later, barefoot but looking ten times more awake, the scent of fresh coffee welcomed him like a promise.Vera glanced up from where she stood by the stove, spoon in hand. “So… how was your bathroom experience?”“Life changing,” he said solemnly, holding up the toothbrush she’d left out for him. “I’ve seen the light. Minty. Glorious. I may have to steal it after all.”Vera chuckled, setting the spoon down. “I’ll invoice you.”“Put it on my tab,” he said, slipping onto a stool at the kitchen island. “I’m starting to rack up quite the bill here.”She handed him a mug. “Right. One stolen toothbrush, two cups of coffee, and one night’s rent on the couch.”He took the mug from her, their fingers brushing briefly. “You forgot the emotional support services I provided. You definitely owe me for those.”Vera ti

Asher leaned against the counter beside her, watching her with a quiet curiosity that made her squirm a little.“What?” she asked, suspicious.“I’m just thinking,” he murmured, “how strange it is that I feel more at peace in your little apartment than I ever did in my own penthouse.”She blinked. “That’s because your penthouse is cold and sterile. Your coffee machine has more personality than your entire living room.”He smirked. “That’s not untrue.”“But also,” she added, more softly now, “maybe it’s not the apartment. Maybe it’s just you… choosing peace.”He didn’t reply to that. He only looked at her, eyes steady and a little unreadable, like he was trying to decide whether to kiss her or say something that would destroy the mood.He ended up doing neither.Instead, he exhaled, long and slow, then straightened up and gave her a rueful smile.“I should head to the office. I’ve already ignored two meetings this morning and I’m pushing it with a third.”Vera crossed her arms, leaning

The boardroom buzzed with anticipation the moment Asher stepped through the glass doors.The room, sleek, modern, and perched high above the skyline, was filled with some of the sharpest minds in the company.Executives, consultants, legal representatives.Normally, when Asher Donovan entered, the room would shift to dead silence, the kind reserved for storms waiting to strike. But this morning, the energy was… strange.Because Asher was smiling.It wasn’t wide or obvious, but it was there, the faint curve of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the relaxed way he adjusted the cuff of his navy shirt before settling into the head chair at the long, obsidian conference table.He didn’t immediately open his tablet or flip through the agenda. Instead, he leaned back, ankle over knee, fingers steepled under his chin as his gaze moved slowly across the room.Every executive exchanged looks, as if to confirm they weren’t imagining it.“Begin,” he said simply.The first presenter stood, slightly

Vera let out a soft, surprised laugh, the kind that made her cheeks warm. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at the corner of her lips.Vera: I’ll wear my finest potato sack.His reply came almost instantly.Asher: Sexy. Save it for later.She laughed again, shaking her head, the blush deepening on her cheeks. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, walking away from the kitchen to get ready.Twenty five minutes later, she had swapped her lazy look for a pair of casual linen pants and a tucked in tank top. Her hair was brushed, twisted into a soft braid that fell over her shoulder, and she wore light gloss and just a dab of mascara.Nothing heavy.She didn’t know why she cared so much about how she looked.She told herself it was just because he was coming over. Just because she didn’t want to look like a disaster. Not because his eyes lingered like they saw past everything.Not because when he smiled at her, it made her stomach twist in a way that was far too real.The