My Ex Husband Wants Me Back

Chapter 10

WARREN’S POV

I freeze.

For a moment, it seems like I’m imagining things.

It can’t be her. But it is.

The woman standing before me is Michelle, my ex-fiancée, only she’s not the Michelle I once knew. She’s different

For some reason, she looks more confident. She looks….untouchable. Her hair is short now, cut neatly above her shoulders. Her makeup is bold. She has on a winged eyeliner and deep red lipstick. Every inch of her screams control and power.

She looks like she belongs on the cover of a luxury magazine, not standing across from me in this restaurant.

For a moment, time slows. Our eyes meet. My heart thuds hard against my ribs. There’s no trace of the warmth I used to know, none of the softness that used to draw me in. She doesn’t even look concerned to see me

“Your Highness,” she says in a cold tone. “Thank you for meeting me.”

I stand abruptly. I’m still processing the sight of her.

“Michelle…” I start

“It’s Marilyn now.” She corrects me.

Marilyn?

We shake hands. Her palm is cool or maybe it’s just me who’s cold all over. I can’t tell if it’s from shock or something else entirely.

“It’s been… a long time,” I say finally.

She smiles coldly. “Has it?”

We sit. My mind is a mess. Her guards stand by the entrance. They’re discreet but alert. Everything about her presence is controlled. She looks like a queen sitting on a throne she built herself.

I try to focus as she brings out some folders from her bag, setting them neatly between us. Her nails are painted a glossy black. Even that detail feels like it’s on purpose.

“Shall we begin?” she asks, flipping open a document.

I nod, even though I can barely hear her words. I’m too distracted by her. The curve of her jaw. The way her short hair brushes against her neck. I couldn’t help but think of the memory of what it used to feel like to kiss her there.

What is wrong with me?

The waiter arrives and bows nervously at me “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”

I nod with a polite smile. But when he turns to Michelle, something unexpected happens. His tone shifts to a comfortable one.

“Good evening, ma’am. Your usual?” he asks.

My brows lift. Her usual?

Michelle smiles and nods at him. “Yes, Mark. Thank you.”

The waiter leaves, and I realize the staff here recognize her more than they do me. This is one of the most exclusive restaurants in the country. People look at her, not me. They whisper, they stare, but not with fear. They look at her with respect.

She’s made a name for herself. Without me.

“Impressive,” I murmur before I can stop myself.

She glances up from the document, arching a brow “What is?”

“This,” I say, gesturing around us. “You. Being… here. Like this.”

“You mean not waiting in your shadow anymore?”

I let out a deep breath “That’s not what I meant.”

She hums softly, flipping a page. “Of course not.”

The conversation turns to business. She starts talking about the proposed merger , projected profits, potential investors, market trends. Her tone is professional. I’m impressed by the things she says.

I’m surprised. When did Michelle know so much about business? When we were together, she was just a hairdresser.

I guess a lot can happen in five years.

I try to follow along, but her voice keeps blurring into something else. I keep having flashes of the memories and the laughter we shared together. I think of the way she used to rest her head on my shoulder after long days. The way her eyes once lit up when I walked into a room.

Now, those same eyes are cold.

“You’ve changed, Michelle,” I say quietly, almost to myself.

Her pen stills mid-note. It’s obvious she heard me. Then, without looking up, she says, “It’s Marilyn now.”

That name hits me harder than I expect. It feels like a wall slamming down between us.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Right. Marilyn.”

She continues talking, explaining figures and returns. But I’m lost again. I feel heated all over and I don’t even know how to explain it.

“Are you listening?” she asks suddenly.

“I… I am,” I lie, sitting straighter. “Please continue.”

She sets her pen down, leans back slightly. “Don’t bother. You’ve always been good at pretending.”

The jab lands deep. My chest tightens. I force a smile that doesn’t last long. “You still know how to cut deep.”

She looks at me for a long second “You gave me the knife,” she says simply, then turns her attention back to the folder.

The tension between us is suffocating now. I can’t take it anymore. If I sit here for one more second, I just might explode.

I set my pen down and let out a deep breath “Michelle - Marilyn… I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.”

Her expression doesn’t change “Of course, Your Highness. You were never very good with unfinished business.”

The words sting more than I’d ever admit.

I rise, adjusting my jacket. “Let’s… reschedule the meeting.”

She nods, not even looking at me this time. “As you wish.”

Then she unlocks her phone, scrolling through her messages as if I’m already gone.

I hesitate. I stay there, wanting to say something, anything. But I don’t. I turn and walk away before she can see the storm in my eyes.

-

Back in my hotel suite, I toss my jacket over a chair and collapse onto the couch. My pulse is still racing.

My chest feels heavy. It feel like I’ve just come from a battlefield instead of a business dinner.

I pour myself a glass of gin and take a sip.

Her face keeps replaying in my mind - the short hair, the way she said Marilyn, the way she didn’t even flinch when she saw me.

How did she move on so easily? How did she become someone I barely recognize?

I take another sip. The bitterness burns down my throat.

You were never very good with unfinished business.

Her voice echoes in my head. I lean back on the couch, staring out at the glowing city skyline through the tall windows.

My phone on the table starts ringing.

I look at the screen. The name flashing across it makes my stomach twist.