CEO’s Regret After I Divorced (Serena and Ryan) novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75: Chapter 75 Jealous and concerned

Serena’s POV

I ignore Ryan completely as I finish the final touches on my sketches. With a satisfied exhale, I hit send and dispatch them to Maya. My phone instantly pings with her reply:

"How’s the conversation going? Candlelight dinner tonight?"

I roll my eyes at her persistent matchmaking and type back a curt "Going home to rest" before closing the chat window.

Stretching my arms overhead, I finally allow myself to glance at Ryan, who’s been sitting patiently on my office sofa for nearly forty minutes.

"Finished comforting Sophie? Finally found time for me?" The questions leave my lips dripping with sarcasm. I don’t even try to hide the edge in my voice.

Ryan stands and approaches my desk, his expression painfully earnest. "Serena, what I have with Sophie isn’t what you think. That’s all in the past. You’re the only one in my heart."

He pauses, then adds with what I assume is meant to be reassurance, "I told her the same thing."

For a brief moment, I almost soften.

Something in his desperate tone nearly draws a smile from me—until my eyes catch a suspicious red smudge on his pristine white shirt collar. My body tenses instantly.

Standing up, I lean closer to examine the mark, running my finger across it. The pad of my finger comes away stained with red. Lipstick. Of course.

Ryan follows my gaze, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then I see the realization dawn in his eyes.

"It must be Sophie’s lipstick," I say flatly, holding up my stained finger like evidence in a crime scene.

"Serena, this was an accident—" he begins, but I cut him off with a dismissive wave.

"Ryan, I honestly don’t mind if you help her settle in. After all, she’s clearly the most important person in your heart." The words burn my throat. "But please don’t come to me with explanations after you’ve finished fawning over her. Don’t you find that ridiculous?"

Ryan looks genuinely dismayed. "Why won’t you believe what I’m telling you?"

"How can I?" I snap, feeling the anger I’d been suppressing bubble up again. "Lipstick doesn’t magically transfer to someone’s shirt without close contact, does it?"

"Then tell me what to do," he says, his chest rising and falling with barely controlled frustration. "How can I make you believe me?"

I shake my head, suddenly feeling exhausted by this entire situation. Why does he think I need to instruct him?

If he truly no longer cared about Sophie, he’d have cut all contact with her. Instead, his actions only bring me more frustration.

"If you’re done, Mr. Blackwood, I need to leave. I have a client meeting tonight." The lie slips easily from my lips—I just need him gone.

Ryan remains rooted in place, staring at me with those intense eyes that once made my knees weak. Now they just make me weary.

We’re locked in this silent standoff when a knock at my office door breaks the tension.

"Come in," I call out, relieved for the interruption.

Julian pushes the door open, and I could kiss him for his perfect timing. His eyes flick between Ryan and me, showing no surprise at finding my Ex-Man here.

"I see the Ex-Man is here too," Julian says casually, then looks at me. "Serena, we need to get going or we’ll be late."

Ryan’s expression darkens instantly. His jaw tightens visibly.

Julian adds pointedly, "We’re already running behind schedule."

He gives me a meaningful look, and I immediately catch on to his rescue attempt. God bless this man.

"You’re right, let’s go." I stand up, moving a bit slower than usual. My ever-expanding belly has changed my center of gravity, making even simple movements more deliberate.

Ryan’s hand shoots out to grasp my arm. "You shouldn’t overexert yourself. Let me take you home to rest instead." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Tonight’s client is important," Julian interjects smoothly, "and Serena won’t be drinking. We’re just having dinner. I’ll make sure she gets home safely—no need for the Ex-Man to worry."

The subtle challenge in Julian’s tone isn’t lost on me, nor on Ryan, whose grip on my arm tightens slightly.

I pull away from him, my voice turning colder. "Mr. Blackwood, please attend to your own affairs. I’m perfectly capable of managing my work schedule."

I turn to Julian. "Let’s go."

As we leave the office together, I feel a pang of something—not regret exactly, but discomfort at leaving Ryan standing there like an outsider. Once we’re safely in Julian’s car, I let out a heavy sigh.

"What are you doing here?" I frown, still trying to push the door closed.

Ryan’s eyes meet mine. "Since you’re not meeting any clients tonight, why don’t we have dinner together?"

He exchanges a look with Milton, who immediately catches on.

"Mrs. Blackwood, just wait here! I’ll have a delicious meal ready for you in no time!" Milton says with enthusiastic cheer. "Better keep the door open so I can bring everything in when it’s ready, okay?"

Faced with Milton’s eager smile, I find it hard to refuse. Besides, it’s just dinner. What’s the worst that could happen?

"Fine, go ahead," I mutter.

"Excellent!" Milton practically skips out.

Ryan’s expression brightens instantly as he steps inside. "Have you been feeling tired lately?" he asks, his hand coming to rest supportively at the small of my back. There’s nothing sensual in his touch—just concern and protection.

I don’t pull away, too exhausted to fight. My body has been feeling increasingly heavy and fatigued lately.

"Mr. Blackwood, is my well-being really any of your concern?" I ask, though the bite in my words is less sharp than before.

"Serena, I swear it was a misunderstanding," he says earnestly. "If you don’t believe me, I’ll take an oath. If anything I’m saying is a lie, when I walk out that door I’ll be—"

I slam my hand over his mouth before he can finish. "Who curses themselves like that?!" I glare at him, genuinely annoyed. "Don’t be ridiculous!"

When I remove my hand, Ryan’s lips curve into a hopeful smile. He takes my hand in his.

"I knew you’d believe me. Serena, we’ve been through so much together. Can you promise me something? Try not to get upset so easily from now on?"

Something stirs in my heart at his words, but before I can respond, Milton returns carrying several dishes.

"Let’s eat first," I say, pointing at him. "I’ll deal with you later!"

By the time we finish the meal—which I have to admit is delicious—I feel my anger gradually dissipating. Food has always been my weakness, and tonight is no exception.

Wiping my hands, I look up at him, determination in my eyes. "Now," I say, "you can explain yourself."