After I Stopped Loving Him (Isabella and Ethan) novel Chapter 651

Harold handed Isabella the takeout, coffee and all. She accepted it with a smile, just as he knew she would.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.

“I’ve got to run,” Harold told her. “There’s a meeting I can’t be late for. Let’s grab dinner sometime when you’re free.”

He didn’t linger. He didn’t even step into her office. The moment Isabella had the breakfast in her hands, Harold was already heading out, clearly on a tight schedule.

Isabella thought about inviting him in for tea, but when he mentioned his meeting, she decided not to push. She just walked him to the elevator and watched the doors close before heading back.

Her editor-in-chief was waiting for her, wearing a knowing smile.

“What’s so funny?” Isabella asked, raising an eyebrow.

The editor’s grin widened. “Isabella, I think Harold might like you.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Come on. He just treats me like a little sister. Barbara and I are close friends, that’s all.”

“Did Harold actually say that? ‘Like a sister’?” The editor leaned in, her eyes sparkling. “Trust me, I’ve seen enough to know. The way he looks at you, the way he takes care of you… You told him you hadn’t eaten and here he is, bringing you breakfast.”

“Mr. Adams never did things like that,” Isabella muttered, almost to herself.

At the mention of the man who’d soon be her ex-husband, Isabella’s voice turned flat. “He brought me breakfast too, actually, but I turned him down. We’re getting divorced, and I don’t want to send mixed signals.”

The editor’s smile faded a little. “Mr. Adams hardly ever shows up here. I figured he just wasn’t the thoughtful type. But since you’re divorcing, it’s probably best to keep some space.”

Not every couple can stay friends after a divorce. Honestly, it’s a miracle if things end on decent terms at all.

“You haven’t eaten yet,” the editor reminded her. “Go have your breakfast. We’ll talk about the script after.”

“Sit tight. I’ll get it started.” Harold disappeared into the breakroom. Ethan leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own head.

Harold guessed why he was here. It had to be about Isabella.

When the coffee was ready, Harold poured two mugs and brought them out. He set one in front of Ethan and took the seat across from him.

He didn’t ask any questions. He trusted Ethan would get to the point.

“You drove Isabella to work this morning, didn’t you?” Ethan finally said.

“Yeah, I did. She called and said she couldn’t drive, so I gave her a ride. We’ve been running into each other a lot lately.”

Ethan’s gaze was sharp. “You don’t have to pretend with me. All these ‘coincidences’? You’re making them happen.”