The Unbreakable Ex-wife

"Mrs. Ferguson, is there anything going on between you and Mr. Ferguson?" "I'm going to clarify this," she said, clearing her throat. "I no longer identify as Mrs. Ferguson. Secondly, Ferguson and I are nothing to each other." "Is this because of your relationship with Draven?" one reporter asked. She didn’t hesitate. “Ask Draven when you see him.” Then she turned on her heels and walked straight to the waiting SUV. Cameras flashed behind her until the black vehicle rolled away and disappeared from sight. — "You were so cool," Mint, her assistant, said with a grin. Erin gave a faint smile. "Let’s just hope the media doesn’t blow this out of proportion." She leaned back against the seat. “What’s on my schedule for today?” She wasn’t in the mood to think about reporters… or her ex-husband. Minutes later, the SUV pulled up in front of a towering glass building. Erin stepped out, Mint trailing behind, tapping away on her tablet. Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen — a headline lit up: The Mystery Behind the Separation of the Golden Couple: Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson. The internet was wild. Everyone thought they knew the truth, but they didn’t. It would’ve been easier to stay away from this town. But she had her reasons for coming back—and she intended to finish what she started. The moment she stepped into the boardroom, Brooke huffed. “You’re late. Where have you been?” Erin didn’t flinch. She moved to her seat, her gaze sweeping the room, calmly noting the worn, restless expressions on their faces. “Gentlemen,” she said, crossing one leg over the other. “Something came up. Let’s get started, shall we?” She wasn’t sorry—never was. She lived for moments like this. Moments where she reminded everyone exactly who held the power in the room. “What’s the core topic?” she asked, flipping through the files in front of her. Brooke sneered. “The scandal with your ex-husband.” Her jaw twitched. A faint frown lined her otherwise composed face. But when she looked up, her smile was cool, unreadable. “Should we be worried about my ex-husband… or focused on the next line of action?” A heavy silence settled over the room. Nothing rattled her when she wore this façade. She wasn’t allowed to be weak. This mask—this carefully constructed armor—was the only way she survived. It protected what was left of her real self. She leaned back in her chair, fingers drumming softly on the armrest. “Ferguson is not a threat.” “What if he is?” Brooke challenged. He was the only one in the boardroom who ever did. His eyes studied her, searching for a c***k in her calm. “I’m worried,” he continued. “We could lose the auction if your emotions get in the way." The old Erin would have crumbled at those words. The woman who let heartbreak control her, who drowned in grief and let it shape her world. But that version of her died the day the car hit the brakes too late, and life gave her a second chance. She closed the file slowly. “If you can’t trust me to win the deal, that’s your problem.” Rising to her feet, she straightened her shoulders. “This meeting is dismissed.” She turned on her heels and walked out. The murmurs behind her were nothing but noise. She'd already won. (HOPE CLINIC) "Are you okay, Erin? You look stressed." She sank into the seat beside him and let out a breath. "I'm stressed, Draven." He twirled a pen between his fingers. "I saw the news." She shook her head. "It’s no big deal, Draven. " He picked up his prescription pad. "I’ll write you something—" She threw her head back with a tired smile. "No… no, Draven. I’m okay." She glanced at him, softer now. "Really. I’m okay." He was the only one who saw her like this—unguarded. The only one she trusted with the part of her she kept hidden from the world. She met his eyes. "You’ll always be my go-to for meds, Draven." He chuckled, leaning back. "You know you actually have to take them, right?" She gave a small nod. "I want you to know something," he said, voice steady. "You don’t ever need to doubt yourself, Erin." "You’re doing great. You’re successful. You kept your word. That man doesn’t deserve you—and I’m sure he’s shitting himself somewhere, hearing what you’ve become." He smiled. "You’re incredible, Erin." Her chest warmed. Her eyes stung. This—this comfort, this reassurance—was better than anything he could have written on a prescription pad. She was going to make that man pay—for every tear, every bruise, every time he made her question her worth. She was now unshakable. Unbreakable and nd one of the most powerful women in the city. “Never forget how far you’ve come,” Draven said gently. “Thank you, Draven. I…” Her phone buzzed, cutting through the moment. She tore her eyes from his and pulled it from her bag. A message lit up the screen. I'm back, Mommy. Where are you? I really miss you. I need you home now.!