Rise of the Formidable Ex-wife (Lucia and Alex) novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113

Chapter 113

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Monica’s bedroom was dark when the dream began. The kind of darkness that felt thick and heavy, pressing down on her chest like a weight she couldn’t move. In the dream, she was standing in the hallway of their old house, the one before Margaret, before everything fell apart.

The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs. Slow, deliberate steps that made Monica’s heart pound even though she didn’t know why. She climbed the stairs one by one, her bare feet silent on the carpeted steps. The hallway stretched longer than it should have, doors appearing and disappearing like they were playing tricks on her eyes.

At the end of the hall, her parents‘ bedroom door stood open. Light spilled out from inside, warm and golden. Monica walked toward it, drawn by something she couldn’t name.

Inside the room, her mother stood beside the bed. Lucia was folding clothes with careful, precise movements. Each piece of clothing went into a large suitcase that sat open on the mattress like a hungry mouth.

“Mom?” Monica called out, but her voice sounded strange. Like it was coming from underwater.

Lucia didn’t turn around. She just kept folding. A blue sweater. A pair of jeans. The dress she wore to church on Sundays. Everything Monica remembered her mother wearing was going into that suitcase.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

Still no answer. Monica stepped closer, and she could see her mother’s face in profile. Lucia’s expression was blank, empty. Like she was sleepwalking through the motions of packing.

From somewhere in the house, Monica

echoing from downstairs. Nor co

“Please, Mom. Talk to me.”

hear voices. Ria and Lucas talking in 1 another room. Their father’s deep laugh sounds. But here in this room, everything felt wrong.

Lucia picked up a photograph from the

e nightstand. It was a picture of the whole family from last Christmas. Everyone smiling, gathered around the tree. Monica remembered that day, how her mother had made hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows, how they’d all worn matching pajamas.

But in the dream, Lucia looked at the photo for a long moment, then placed it face–down in the drawer. Not in the suitcase In the drawer. Like she was putting it away forever.

“Mom, no!” Monica reached out to grab her mother’s arm, but her hand passed right through. Like Lucia was made of air.

The suitcase was getting fuller. More clothes, more pieces of her mother’s life disappearing inside. Monica watched helplessly as Lucia packed away the scarf Monica had given her for Mother’s Day. The earrings Dad bought her for their anniversary. The book she read every night before bed.

“Why are you leaving us?” Monica whispered.

For the first time, Lucia paused. Her hands stopped moving. She turned her head slightly, like she might have heard something. For one desperate moment, Monica thought her mother was going to look at her.

But then Lucia went back to packing.

The room started changing around them. The walls grew taller, stretching up and up until Monica couldn’t see the ceiling anymore. The golden light began to fade, replaced by a cold gray that made everything look dead.

Lucia closed the suitcase with a soft click that sounded like a door slamming. She picked it up and walked toward the bedroom door, moving past Monica like she wasn’t even there.

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Chapter 113.

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Please don’t go Monica ran after her, but no matter how fast she moved, she couldn’t catch up. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything!”

Lucia walked down the stairs her footsteps echoing in the empty house. Because now it was empty. The voices Monica had heard before were gone. Ria sud Lucas had vanished. Even their father’s laugh had faded away.

The front door stood open, spilling gray light into the hallway. Lucia walked through it without hesitation, without looking

back. Not even once.

“Mom!” Monica screamed, but her voice made no sound

She ran to the doorway and looked out. Her mother was walking down the driveway, getting smaller and smaller with each step. The suitcase swung at her side like it weighed nothing at all.

At the end of the driveway, a car waited. Black and sleek, its engine running. A man stood beside it, tall, with dark hair. Alexander Kane. He smiled when he saw Lucia coming, opening the car door for her like a gentleman.

Lucia got into the car without looking back. And Monica was alone in the empty house, surrounded by silence so complete it felt like death.

She tried to scream again, but still no sound came. She tried to run after the car, but her feet wouldn’t move. She was stuck in the doorway, watching her mother disappear forever.

The house began to crumble around her. Paint peeling off the walls like old skin. Windows cracking with spider web patterns. The floor beneath her feet starting to sag and buckle.

Everything was falling apart because her mother was gone. Everything was breaking because Monica had let her go.

“I didn’t mean it!” Monica finally found her voice, but it was too late. The car was gone. Her mother was gone. “I didn’t mean to choose him! Come back! Please come back!”

But there was no one left to hear her cries.

Monica woke up screaming.

Her bedroom was pitch black, the covers tangled around her legs like ropes. Sweat covered her skin, cold and sticky. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she thought it might break through.

The dream clung to her like cobwebs, every detail sharp and terrible. She could still see her mother’s blank face, still hear the click of the suitcase closing. Still feel the emptiness of being left behind.

Monica rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a soft thud. The carpet was rough against her check, but she didn’t care. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, making herself as small as possible.

The tears came in waves, each one more painful than the last. They soaked into the carpet beneath her face, making dark spots in the pale fabric. Her whole body shook with the force of her crying.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the empty room. “I’m so sorry, Mom,”

But saying sorry to the darkness didn’t make the pain go away. It didn’t bring her mother back. It didn’t undo all the terrible choices Monica had made eight months ago.

In the dream, her mother had left without looking back. Without saying goodbye. Without caring that she was breaking her daughter’s heart into a million pieces.

And the worst part was, it wasn’t really a dream. It was a memory twisted by guilt and regret. Because that’s exactly what had happened. Lucia had packed her things and left, and Monica had stood by and let it happen.

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Chapter 113

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No, worse than that. Monica had helped it happen. She had chosen her father’s lies over her mother’s love. She had believed

Margaret’s poison words instead of trusting the woman who had sung her lullabies and kissed her scraped knees.

The wedding invitation flashed through her mind. Cream–colored paper with gold letters. Her mother’s new name printed in elegant script. Lucia Rose Smith. Soon to be Lucia Kane.

Her mother was moving on. Building a new life with a new family. A life that didn’t include Ria, Lucas, or Monica.

“She hates us,” Monica sobbed into the carpet. “She hates us and we deserve it.”

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