Ex's crazy pursuit After Divorce (Chloe and Adrian) novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10 We Need to Talk

Adrian had expected Chloe to light up. But when he searched her face, there was no surprise, no joy–just calm indifference.

His heart sank. Watching her ignore the cake box, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Aren’t you going to try it?”

Chloe had been about to head to bed, but at his question, she paused.

“Oh.”

She opened the box without expression.

Adrian studied her carefully.

She was as obedient as ever, but somehow that obedience felt hollow now, like she was just going through the motions. The realization left him oddly irritated.

She lifted the spoon, cut a bite, then froze when she saw the neat cubes of yellow mango inside.

Perfectly measured, perfectly cut. Every piece the same size.

It was beautiful. Too beautiful.

Chloe almost felt guilty not eating it after seeing the ler’s9:57

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effort.

But staring at those mango chunks, all she felt was the sting of mockery–reminding her she’d never gotten that kind of care.

from her own husband.

The soft fruit suddenly seemed sharp, thorned, piercing straight into her chest.

Adrian noticed her stiff expression and followed her gaze. His face changed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know…” His voice faltered, panic flashing across his eyes.

He couldn’t even finish the excuse, just stared at her nervously.

Chloe didn’t look angry. She didn’t even look disappointed. She calmly set the spoon down.

“It’s fine. I guess I’m just not meant to enjoy it.”

“I-”

“I have an early shift tomorrow. I’m going to shower and sleep.” She cut him off, turning away.

But before she could leave, Adrian caught her wrist.

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“What’s wrong?” she asked, confused.

His mind blanked. Desperate for something–anything–he grabbed at the first excuse that came to him.

“I drank too much tonight and feel awful. Why didn’t you make me hangover soup?”

The second the words left his mouth, he froze.

It sounded less like conversation and more like an accusation.

“I’m not blaming you,” he rushed to add, his voice stiff.

But Chloe didn’t even flinch. She just nodded calmly.

“I was too tired after the trip. Didn’t feel like cooking.”

Her tone stayed even, almost detached.

“There’s honey water in the fridge. If you’re not feeling well, you can make some.” She pointed toward the kitchen.

Adrian’s chest tightened at her flat response.

“Oh,” he muttered absently, but his eyes stayed fixed on her.

Before, she always waited for him with hangover soup ready, whether he’d been drinking or not.

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But tonight, she hadn’t asked a single question. She hadn’t even furrowed her brow when he said he felt sick.

She wouldn’t even make him a cup of honey water.

Swallowing the unease pressing down on him, Adrian went to the fridge and made it himself.

When Chloe still didn’t ask if his head hurt or if his stomach was upset, the weight in Adrian’s chest grew heavier.

Feeling oddly desperate, he brought up the game from earlier that night.

“After Marcus and the guys finished drinking, they played this game.”

He tried to sound casual, sipping his water like it was nothing.

But the truth was, he was fishing.

Chloe didn’t really want to hear it, but out of politeness, she stayed and waited.

Under her quiet gaze, Adrian felt guilty for no reason. He covered it by taking another sip, then cleared his throat.

“They said everyone should put their phones on the table and

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wait for their partners to call. You know–telling them to come home.”

He studied her face closely.

Chloe looked momentarily stunned.

“They said I’d definitely win, since you always call first. But tonight… I was the last. I didn’t get a call from you at all.”

He’d started lightly, like it was idle chatter.

But by the end, his voice carried a faint edge–hurt, almost

accusatory.

“Sorry for making you lose the game,” Chloe said after a pause, pressing her lips together.

Adrian froze.

He’d expected excuses. Promises. Some kind of reassurance that next time, she’d call first again.

But all he got was a dry apology. No explanation. No effort to soothe him.

Like she didn’t care whether he believed her or not.

The tightness in his chest worsened.

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Seeing his dark expression and his silence, Chloe had no interest in dragging it out.

To her, it was obvious–he was just sulking because he’d lost face in front of his friends, and she was the convenient target.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m going to bed. I have an early shift

tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.

“Chloe.”

She glanced back. “What is it?”

Adrian didn’t answer right away. His usually composed eyes locked on her indifferent expression, and his throat went dry.

Ever since he’d walked through the door, she hadn’t cracked once. No warmth, no softness–just calm detachment.

It unsettled him, left his chest feeling crushed.

“We need to talk.” His voice was low, hoarse.

Chloe’s eyes showed only mild confusion. Talk?

“Okay. About what?”

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Adrian led her to the couch.

He sat across from her, elbows braced on his knees, fingers interlaced, looking like he had a hundred things to say but no

idea where to start.

Chloe didn’t rush him. She just sat quietly, waiting.

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