My Husband Chose His Ex I Became His Regret novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Lila

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I knew coming home would take some adjustment. I just didn’t expect to get ambushed the second we hit the ground.

In my head, the transition was simple: land, shake off the jet lag, slip quietly back into our old habits, both of us a little softer after nine days just being together. We’d unpack, make coffee, renegotiate the daily rituals of sharing space. Maybe we’d order takeout and let the city fade in around us, a buffer between those endless shades of blue in the Maldives and New York’s harsh, glittering gray.

That’s what I’d pictured, at least.

Instead, we walk through the arrivals door at JFK and I spot the cameras before Aidan does.

There are three of them, which means someone tipped them off. Not lurking for some generic celebrity, but waiting for us, squarely positioned to catch every action right under the bright EXIT sign. I get about two seconds to piece it together before the flashes start.

Aidan’s hand lands on my elbow. He doesn’t yank; it’s just a quick, steady placement. He shifts, putting his shoulder between me and the nearest lens, and leads us forward, calm but clearly experienced at this kind of

scene.

“Don’t stop,” he says, voice low and steady.

“Wasn’t planning to,” I reply, though my heart’s pounding.

A photographer yells his name, then mine. Lila. Lila Stark. Can you look this way? The way he says it, casual, almost like we’re friends, sends a cold little jolt through my stomach.

Eventually, we reach the car. The door close shut, and the chaos outside melts away. I take a deep breath.

Aidan’s already on his phone, dialing, already in his crisis mode, running things through his mind, ready. He’s had practice, apparently. He’s been ready for this since that weird 3 a.m. chat with Thomas, since some call he made to make sure all hell didn’t break loose.

I take out my own phone. I can’t help it. I type in my name.

The first headline pops up before he even notices.

STORM CEO RETURNS FROM SECRET HONEYMOON WITH CONTROVERSIAL NEW WIFE.

Controversial.

I read it again. The word lands squarely in my chest, right where those old bruises hide.

Second result, a giant social media thread, not even journalism, just gossip, but with forty thousand comments. Apparently, that’s enough to make it show up first. They’re speculating about whether I was Aidan’s mistress before his last breakup. There are “screenshots,” twisted out of context, timelines massaged to create a scandal.

:

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Chapter 86

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The third one, a photo. I know this shot, and I know that day: me at a back door in Midtown, fourteen months ago, three weeks after I’d filed for divorce, makeup wrong, eyes red, face still open and unguarded. Caption: Who exactly is Lila Stark?

Aidan gently takes my phone, almost with surgical care.

“Don’t,” he says. Not unkind, just firm.

“I should know what’s being said.”

“Not tonight.” He isn’t letting go of my phone just yet. “Tonight we rest.”

“That’s not your call…”

“Lila.” He says it in that way, the one that means he wants me to hear him, all the way through. “Please. Just tonight. One night, before we deal with it.”

I look at him, at the mask of control and the thin edge of something that, if I’m not misreading, is fear. Not the kind you use for business. The other kind.

I put my hand out. He gives the phone back. I drop it in my bag and leave it.

“One night,” I agree.

The city rolls by outside the SUV, cold, gray, alive, enormous, nothing like the tiny, sunlit world of the Maldives. It almost feels like a different planet. Like the place has been talking about us, making up its mind, while we were gone.

We step inside the penthouse. Someone’s been in. the air smells faintly like cedar and salt, tulips on the kitchen counter, a hopeful bottle of champagne slowly sweating in a melted bucket. It’s warm and clean. It’s supposed to be home now, my name on the paperwork. I even remember picking those tulips last spring, trying to figure out if I was allowed to want things. Aidan had said, whatever you want, distracted but meaning it.

I look at the flowers. I think: they’d branded me controversial before I’d even landed.

Aidan watches from the kitchen doorway, uncertain, reading me.

“I’m fine,” I try.

“You’re doing the ‘I’m fine’ that means you’re anything but.”

I set my bag down. “I’m standing in my living room.”

“Our living room,” he corrects softly.

“Right. And I’m realizing someone’s out there, building a narrative about me, and they’ve had a head start.”

He crosses the room. standing close, but not pushing, waiting for me to ask.

“What do you know?” I say. “From Thomas. From your late-night calls. What’s real?”

11:21 Mon, May 18 M…

Chapter 86

He hesitates a moment too long.

“Aidan.”

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