The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 135

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire’s Ex–Wife

Chapter 135: Wash Me Off Her Skin–2

And at the airport, hearing her on the phone with Christopher, lang ng like that, so easy and light in a way she never was with me mymore I’d lit a huse i couldn’t put out.

I’d wanted to clalim het, to måke her mine again, to erase him from fer vnler, her smile, her life,

1 shifted in my seat, the ache in my chest tightening. I didn’t regret not entirely. But the way she’d looked at me after, the fury in her eves as she’d slapped me, that cut deeper than I wanted to adhit.

By the time the p

plane touched down in Grandinn Elizabeth’s sleepytle hometown, the sky was pitch black.

The cemetery was long closed, its gates lacked tight until morning. Angela and I would have to wait to visit the grave, so Thomas had arranged for us to crash at a hotel nearby.

My muscles ached as I stepped off the jet, the cold night air biting my skin through my still–damp shirt. I wanted a shower, a drink, and about twelve hours of sleep–but I knew none of that would come easy with Angela around.

Thomas led the way to the hotel, a small, quaint place with creaky floors and dim lighting. He checked us in, handing over two keycards–one for me, ene for Angela.

“Your rooms are next to each other,” he said, tossing her a quick glance. “Figured it’d be easier that way.”

Angela’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “No,” she said, her ce flat but firm. “I’ll take your room, Thomas. You can switch

with me.”

“What?” I said, stepping forward, irritation flaring hot in my chest. That’s ridiculous. The rooms are fine-

“I don’t care,” she cut me off, snatching the keycard from Thomas’s hand without even looking at me. “I’m not staying next to you.”

“Angela-

I started, but she was already moving, brushing past me like I was nothing. I stood there, rooted to the spot in the middle of the lobby, watching her go. Thomas shifted beside me, clearing his throat awkwardly,

“She’s just tired,” he offered, but I didn’t buy it. Tired didn’t explain the lee in her voice, the way she couldn’t even stand the thought of a wall between us.

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered, grabbing my y own keycard and turning toward my room.

My hands curled into fists as I climbed the stairs, the weight of her rejection sinking in.

She could run all she wanted–swap rooms, ignore me, pretend I didnt exist–but it wouldn’t change what had happened. It wouldn’t change the way her body had arched into mine, the way she’d gasped my name before she’d remembered to hate me.

I pushed open t

the door to my room, the faint scent of old wood and lavender hitting me as I stepped inside. The bed was neatly made, the curtains drawn tight against the night, but I didn’t care about any of it.

I dropped my bag by the door and sank onto the

edge of the mattress, my head in my hands.

I should’ve let her go five years ago. Should’ve let her

er stay gone.

But seeing her again, being near hor–it was like a drug I couldn’t kick.

Every look. every word, every damn fight just pulled me deeper.