The CEO's Ex-Wife

Chasing Her

Chapter 6

Jason’s Point of View

My feet stopped working. My brain stopped working. Everything just… stopped.

Jennifer.

She was right there, maybe twenty feet away, talking to someone by the fountain. For a second, I thought I’d finally lost it. That my mind had just conjured her up from all the wishing. But no. It was her. It was really her.

Time had been good to her. Not in a gentle way, but in a sharp, polished way. Her hair was darker, cut in a sleek line at her shoulders. She wore a navy dress that was all business, but it couldn’t hide the fact that she’d filled out in the years since I’d seen her. She looked… substantial. Real. Beautiful. And maybe happy. I wasn't even the fading memory of her I’d been chasing.

A weird laugh caught in my throat.

“Wow,” I couldn't believe my eyes.

The irony was a physical thing. Six years. Six years of hiring people, checking leads, staring at passenger manifests. And I find her here, at my own corporate headquarters, because I’m late for a meeting with a security firm. She was my ghost, and she’d been standing in my lobby.

All the speeches I’d practiced in the car, in the shower, in the dark, they vanished. My tongue felt too big for my mouth. I took one step, then another, my dress shoes were too loud on the marble.

And then she turned. Not toward me, but away. She was leaving.

A jolt of pure panic shot through me. No. Not again. I can't let go again.

“Jennifer!”

The word tore out of me, louder than I meant. People looked. I didn’t care. I started walking so fast that I began to jog. She heard me. I saw her shoulders tense. But instead of stopping, she began to walk faster. She didn't want to see me.

“Jennifer, wait! Please!”

She stopped. She turned slowly, and when her eyes found mine, it was like diving into a frozen lake. There was no warmth there and definitely no surprise. Just a cool, assessing look that made me feel like a specimen.

“Jason.” She said my name like she was reading it off a name tag. A faint, humorless smile touched her lips. “Well. This is a surprise.”

“You’re here,” I managed, my voice rough. I sounded like an i***t. “I’ve… I’ve been looking for you.”

“Have you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a flat statement. She glanced at her watch, a delicate, expensive thing on her wrist. “You found me. Congratulations. Was there something you needed?”

The chill in her voice was worse than shouting. It was an absolute zero. “Jennifer, talk to me. Where have you been? Are you okay?”

“I’ve been living my life, Jason. Quite successfully, as it happens.” She took a small step back, putting more space between us. A barrier. “I’m fine. More than fine.”

“You just disappeared.” The old hurt and confusion rose up, familiar and bitter. “For six years. You have no idea what that was like.”

Her expression didn’t change. “I have a very good idea, actually. I know exactly what it’s like to have someone vanish from your life. To be left with nothing but questions.” She tilted her head. “Consider this my answer.”

It felt like she’d reached into my chest and squeezed. “That’s not fair. What happened… with my grandfather… Lucy’s accusations…”

“Stop.” The single word was sharp, final. “I am not having this conversation. Not here. Not ever. The Jennifer you’re looking for doesn’t exist anymore. She’s gone. You made sure of that.”

“I didn’t…”

“You did.” Her eyes finally flashed with something, it wasn't pain, but a fierce, hardened anger. “You believed the easiest lie. You chose the familiar story. You let them throw me out with the trash. So no, Jason. You don’t get to stand here now, after six years, and ask me where I’ve been.”

I had nothing. Every defense, every excuse I’d rehearsed for myself over the years, crumbled to dust under her gaze. She wasn’t the heartbroken girl I remembered. She was a woman who had looked at the wreckage I’d helped create and built a fortress out of it.

I’d tried to move on. I’d let Lucy back in, let everyone believe we were picking up the pieces. But it was all a performance. Lucy was a comfortable habit, a familiar face who asked for nothing I couldn’t easily give. Being with her was like living in a beautifully furnished, empty house. The ghost of Jennifer was in every room.

And now the ghost was flesh and blood, telling me to get lost.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” I said. It was the only true thing I had left.

For a bit of a second, something flickered in her eyes. It was soft, maybe just weariness. “That’s your burden to carry, not mine. My life is elsewhere now. It has been for a long time.”

She gave me one last, long look, as if memorizing the face of a stranger she never wanted to see again. Then she turned and walked away. This time, I didn’t call out. I didn’t follow. My body wouldn’t obey.

I stood there, watching her go, feeling the old, familiar hollow feeling open up inside me. But it was different now. It wasn’t the ache of absence. It was the sharper, more terrible pain of presence. She was here. She was alive. And she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.

The man she’d loved or the man I’d pretended to be with her might as well have died that day. She’d buried him and moved on.

But I was still here. Breathing. Seeing her. And that changed everything. The hopeless search was over. Now the real work began. She could say that version of me was dead. Fine.

But this new man, the one staring at her retreating back with a heart full of regret and a reckless stubbornness, was very much alive. And he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ll do anything… absolutely to have you back. No matter how dirty I had to be.” I whispered slowly.