Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart

Richard's POV

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights outside the window. The penthouse was too quiet, too cold.

Susan had left hours ago, angry at me for not going to her stupid party. I couldn't focus on her anymore.

All I could think about was Sarah.

I don't know when it started, this gnawing feeling in my gut.

Maybe it was when I saw her in the news a few weeks ago, sitting next to Wesley. Smiling. Confidence. Happy.

And that's what twisted me up inside. Happy. Without me.

I shook my head, trying to push it away, but the thoughts kept coming back.

I thought being with Susan was the right thing. I thought she would fit into my life better, that she wouldn't ask for too much. But now, sitting here alone, it hit me like a slap in the face.

I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

I sighed and reached for my phone on the nightstand. My thumb hovered over Sarah's name in the contacts.

I hadn't deleted it yet, even after the divorce. Maybe I didn't think of it much. Maybe I hadn't cared.

I hit the call button. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt my mouth go dry as the phone rang once, twice. Then, a robotic voice cut through. 'The number you have dialed is no longer in service.'

Gone. Just like that.

I slammed the phone down, my hand shaking. "Damn it, Sarah."

Well. What was I thinking? Of course, it only made sense that she changed her sim. New life. New contacts.

How had I missed it? Why didn't I see it earlier? Well, I was either blind or pretended not to notice.

Everyone liked her more than Susan. And when they saw me with Susan, it felt as if they were pitying me-including my best friend.

Martin's words still echoed in my ear. 'Maybe they're right, Richard! You think hundreds of people are all wrong? You think it's just rumors?'

I ruffled my hair in frustration. Were they right? Was I wrong?

I was still sitting there, lost in my thoughts when I heard the door to the bedroom swing open.

Susan strutted in, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. She looked expensive.

Her dress was tight, her makeup perfect. But all I saw was a mask.

"Richard!" she snapped, hands on her hips. "You didn't even bother to show up tonight."

"Do you know how embarrassing that was? People are asking if we're even engaged anymore!"

I sighed, rubbing my temple. I didn't have the energy for this. Not tonight. "Susan, not now."

"Oh, not now?" she scoffed, throwing her handbag onto the bed. "That's all you ever say! You're distant, you're cold."

She spat. "Do you even care about us anymore? Or are you just regretting everything?"

Her words hit too close to home. I stood up slowly, trying to keep calm.

"What do you want me to say, Susan? That I'm sorry for not going to some party?"

I continued. "That I don't care about you showing off to people who don't matter?"

"Maybe you should say you care about me at all!" she shot back, her voice rising.

"You're always lost in your head! And don't think I don't notice when you look at me like-like you're wishing I was someone else!"

I turned away, feeling my chest tighten. I didn't want to have this fight. Not now, not ever. "Susan, let's just..."

She wasn't done. "I know what's going on. It is Sarah you're still thinking about."

"Yeah, I see it in your eyes every time you're off in your little world. I bet you regret letting her go, huh? I bet you wish she was still here!"

My jaw clenched. I spun around to face her, my voice low. "Don't. Talk. About. Sarah."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't back down. "Why not? Can't you see? She was never good enough for you! She didn't understand this life-our life. She was weak, Richard. She-" "Stop!" I shouted, louder than I meant to. My voice echoed through the room. Susan blinked in surprise, but I couldn't stop.

"You don't know a damn thing about her, Susan. She wasn't weak. She was everything. And I..."

The words stuck in my throat. I took a deep breath, my heart racing. "I should never have let her go."

There was silence. Thick and heavy that a knife could slice through it.

Susan stared at me like I had just slapped her. Maybe, in a way, I had.

Her voice was quieter now, but still sharp. "So, that's it, then? You regret choosing me? You wish you were still with her?"

I swallowed hard. I didn't know how to answer that. My mind was a mess. Did I regret it?

Did I wish I was still with Sarah? The answer was clear, but saying it out loud felt like a final nail in the coffin of this life I had built.

"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe."

Susan's face crumpled, and for the first time, I saw real hurt there. "You're unbelievable," she spat, grabbing her bag and storming toward the door.

"You think you can just say that and everything will be fine? Well, guess what, Richard? You lost her. And now you're gonna lose me too and you will regret it."

The door slammed behind her, leaving me alone again.

Everything I had said settled over me like a heavy blanket. I sank back down onto the bed, running my hands through my hair.

I didn't chase after her. I couldn't. Because deep down, I knew she was right.

I had lost Sarah. And now, I was losing everything else too.

The phone sat beside me, useless. I stared at it, hoping for a miracle.

Hoping that maybe Sarah would somehow call, that she'd forgive me, that everything would go back to the way it was. But I knew better.

She was gone. And maybe, just maybe, I had lost the only good thing I ever had.

***

The lights were dim, the music loud, and the air thick with cigarette smoke and perfume.

Martins and I sat in one of those private booths, the kind with leather seats that stick to your skin after a while.

I took a long sip of my whiskey, feeling the burn in my throat. I wasn't here to drink, but I needed something to take the edge off.

Martins was leaning back in his seat, his eyes fixed on the stage. A group of girls danced, their bodies moving in sync with the beat. He smirked, his eyes glistening as he turned to me.

"So," he said, tapping his glass with his fingers. "Who are you gonna pick? The brunette, or the blonde?"

I didn't answer at first. I just stared at the glass in my hand, the amber liquid swirling around.

I wasn't here for this. I didn't care about the girls, the drinks, or the whole scene.

"I'll go with the blonde," Martins said with a grin, his gaze following her as she danced.

I downed the rest of my drink, slamming the glass on the table a little too hard. "I'm not here to take girls, Martins."

He raised an eyebrow, then sat up straighter, his smirk fading a bit. "Then why are we here, Richard Wright? What's eating you?"

I clenched my jaw. I needed to tell him. "I need to see Sarah."

Martins almost choked on his drink. "Your ex-wife?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I glared at him. "Don't remind me that we used to be married, Martins."

He held up his hands, backing off. "Alright, alright. No need to get all touchy. But, seriously, what's going on? Thought you'd moved on."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the frustration bubbling inside me. "I don't know, okay? I just... I need to see her. And she owes me an explanation for...teaming up with the dickhead."

Martins leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "She owe you nothing, Richard. Wesley is your rival, and Sarah was your ex wife."

I glared at him and he raised his hands up. "Okay...okay, but what are you gonna tell Susan?"

I clenched my fists, trying not to explode. Susan was the last thing I wanted to talk about. "I don't owe her an explanation."

Martins let out a low whistle, leaning back again. "About time," he said with a smirk. "Finally acting like your old self, huh?"

I ignored the jab, staring at the glass in front of me. "I'm flying to Madrid tomorrow morning."

Martins blinked, his smirk faltering. "Madrid? Are you serious?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up.

"Man, I can see it now-billionaire Richard Wright, flying across the world to win back his ex-wife's broken heart. Imagine that on a billboard."

I didn't laugh. There was nothing funny about this.

Martins stood up and danced toward the blonde stripper. He was probably tired of me, but what choice does he have?

I just hoped I wasn't too late to see Sarah.