Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart

Richard's POV.

It had been two weeks since I got engaged to Susan, and she was on top of the world.

Everywhere we went, she flashed the ring, her smile wide and bright. At home, she took charge of everything. "We need new curtains," she said one day. The next, it was, "Let's change the dining table. It's too old-fashioned." She wanted to make the house feel 'new,' like a fresh start.

I didn't care much. She could change whatever she wanted. It was her home too now.

But as the days passed, doubts started creeping in, like shadows I couldn't quite shake off.

I remembered what Martins had said. He had looked me in the eyes and asked, 'Are you sure you're happy?'

At the time, I brushed it off. What did he know? I knew what I wanted. I wanted Susan.

I wanted the thrill and the spark, not the dullness I had with...

I paused, trying not to let my mind finish the thought. But it was there.

Sarah.

For all the things I didn't feel for her, she put effort into our marriage. She planned everything-events, dinners, even simple things like managing our household.

She was always involved, making sure everything ran smoothly. There was a structure, a routine that I relied on without even knowing it.

Now, with her gone, things felt... chaotic. I couldn't find my shoes half the time because they weren't where they used to be.

My schedule was a mess because Susan kept filling it with things I didn't even know about until the last minute.

"Richard, have you seen the paint samples?" Susan's voice cut through my thoughts.

She walked into the room, holding a fan of colors. "I'm thinking we should repaint the living room. Make it feel more 'us'. What do you think? Blue, beige, maybe a soft green?" I stared at the colors in her hand, feeling strangely lost. "I don't know, Susan. You pick."

She frowned slightly. "I want us to decide together. It's our home now."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Just... pick whatever you like."

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine, I'll figure it out." She turned and left the room, already talking to herself about rugs and lamps and God knows what else. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples. Why did everything feel so loud and fast?

I glanced over at the corner where Sarah's old vase used to sit. It was gone now, replaced by some modern art piece Susan had chosen.

The spot looked bare to me, even with the new decoration. I shook my head, annoyed with myself.

Why was I even thinking about that vase?

I could still hear Martin's voice in the back of my mind again. "Are you sure you're happy?"

"Of course I am," I muttered under my breath, trying to convince myself. I made my choice.

I wanted Susan, not Sarah. Never Sarah.

But then, why did it feel like something was missing?

Being with Susan was exactly what I had always wanted. She was independent, and confident, and knew what she wanted.

There was no tiptoeing around with her. She didn't need my constant attention, didn't fuss over every little detail.

I used to think that was perfect. With Susan, things were simple-at least, they were supposed to be.

But now, as the days went on, I found myself noticing the small things. Like when I had a long day at work and came home exhausted.

Susan barely glanced up from her phone or whatever she was doing. "Kate would serve you dinner" she'd say, not even looking up.

It wasn't a big deal. I didn't expect her to drop everything for me.

But with Sarah... Sarah used to ask. She'd see the look on my face and say, "Tough day?" Even though, I would ignore her.

She'd make sure there was a warm meal, maybe even something I liked.

She never made a big show of it, but it was there-those small, unnoticed ways she supported me.

I never thought I needed that. Now, I wasn't so sure.

One evening, I came back from the office, my head pounding. I had spent hours in meetings, and all I wanted was to sit in silence.

I dropped my briefcase by the door and walked into the living room. Susan was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her tablet. "Hey," I said, collapsing into a chair. "Rough day."

She glanced up briefly. "Hmm, sorry to hear that. Anyway, I was thinking we should redecorate the guest room this weekend. Maybe add a little color." I blinked, trying to keep up. "Uh, sure. Whatever you think."

"Great," she said, already back to her tablet. No questions, no concern, just... nothing.

I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment. I remembered how Sarah would have reacted.

She would've noticed the tension in my voice, and the tired look in my eyes. She wouldn't have pushed on with her plans.

Instead, she'd ask if I wanted to talk about it or just sit with me quietly. And I would always walk out on her.

"Are you listening?" Susan's voice snapped me back to the present.

"What?" I opened my eyes to see her staring at me, annoyed.

"I said, do you think we should go for a lighter shade or something bold? You're the one who has to look at it too, you know."

"Yeah, sure. Light is fine," I muttered, not really caring.

She huffed, clearly not satisfied with my answer, but she let it go. I watched her for a moment, trying to find the comfort I used to feel just being around her.

It was there, but... different. It was the comfort of being with someone who didn't need you, who let you be. And wasn't that what I wanted?

Still, I couldn't stop the nagging thought at the back of my mind. Sarah would have known.

She would have seen through the 'rough day' and made sure I was okay. I used to find that annoying like she was smothering me. Now, I almost missed it.

But this was what I wanted, right? A relationship that didn't demand too much from me.

Susan was exactly what I asked for. Independent, self-sufficient. So why did it feel like something was... missing?

I pushed the thought away, forcing myself to focus on Susan's voice as she went on about paint colors.

This was the life I chose. This was supposed to be enough.

Later this evening, I couldn't hold on any longer. I needed to get some fresh air, so I left the house to the dock.

I sat on the deck of my yacht, watching the waves. The sea was calm, and the sun was beginning to dip into the horizon.

It should've been relaxing, but my mind was restless. I looked up when I heard footsteps.

Martins finally showed up, looking slightly out of breath.

"Sorry, man," he said, taking a seat across from me. "Work's been a nightmare lately. Could barely find a minute to myself." I nodded. "No worries. I get it."

He studied me for a second, then tilted his head. "Have you been sleeping okay? You look... I don't know, tired or something."

I let out a small laugh. "Maybe it's just work, too. Stress, you know?"

Martins raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

I shifted in my seat, not quite meeting his eyes. The truth was, I hadn't been sleeping well. Nights felt longer, and mornings came too soon. But it sounded ridiculous, so I just shrugged. "Yeah, maybe just the workload. Things have been crazy lately."

Martins leaned back, eyes still on me. "You know what it is, and I pray you don't lose yourself." I could tell he wasn't buying it, but I wasn't ready to spill whatever was going on in my head.