My Ex-husband Is Now My Boss

Three Days With My Ex

Chapter Two

Three Days With My Ex

At exactly 6:47 the next morning, I stood in front of my bedroom mirror and questioned every decision that had led me to this moment.

Especially the decision to accept the job.

I had spent half the night convincing myself that working for Damien Sterling was perfectly normal.

It wasn't.

Nothing about Damien Sterling had ever been normal.

Not our marriage.

Not our divorce.

And definitely not the way my heart still reacted whenever he looked at me.

I touched the necklace around my neck.

It was a simple silver chain.

I had bought it for myself two years ago.

The wedding ring was gone.

I had gotten rid of it shortly after the divorce.

Or at least, I had tried.

There were some things you could throw away.

Some memories you couldn't.

I grabbed my handbag and headed downstairs.

My phone buzzed.

Damien: I'm downstairs.

I stopped walking.

Of course he was.

I checked the time.

6:49.

He was early.

That was one thing I remembered about him.

Damien Sterling was never late.

Not for meetings.

Not for flights.

Not for anything.

Except, apparently, our marriage.

I pushed the thought away.

I opened the door.

A black luxury SUV was parked outside.

Damien stood beside it, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit.

My breath caught.

He looked exactly like the man I remembered.

Except somehow more dangerous.

His dark hair was neatly styled, and his expression was unreadable behind the sunglasses resting on his face.

He looked at me.

His eyes moved from my face to my heels, then slowly back to my eyes.

"You look tired."

I frowned.

"Good morning to you too."

"You didn't sleep."

"I slept."

"You're lying."

I crossed my arms.

"You always did think you knew everything."

"I know you."

The familiar words irritated me.

"That's what you keep saying."

He removed his sunglasses.

"And you're still pretending you don't want to talk about what happened."

"Because it's none of your business."

His jaw tightened.

"It will be when we're alone for three days."

I stared at him.

"Three days."

"That's what I told you yesterday."

"I was hoping you'd change your mind."

"I didn't."

"Obviously."

He opened the passenger door.

"Get in."

I hesitated.

"I can drive myself."

"No."

"I don't need a driver."

"I'm not your driver."

"Then what are you?"

His eyes met mine.

"Your boss."

I rolled my eyes.

"Right."

I got into the car.

He closed the door.

A moment later, he slid behind the steering wheel.

The silence inside the vehicle was unbearable.

I stared through the window.

He started the engine.

Neither of us spoke.

Ten minutes passed.

Then fifteen.

Finally, Damien broke the silence.

"How's your mother?"

My fingers tightened around my handbag.

"She's fine."

"She still lives in the same house?"

"Yes."

"Does she know you're working for me?"

I looked at him.

"Why wouldn't she?"

His expression remained focused on the road.

"Because she never liked me."

I almost smiled.

"She didn't hate you."

"She threatened to throw me out of the house the last time I visited."

"That was because you made me cry."

He went silent.

I immediately regretted saying it.

The atmosphere changed.

"Amara."

"Forget it."

"No."

I looked out the window.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"There is."

"Not now."

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"I made mistakes."

I swallowed.

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not mistakes like mine."

I turned toward him.

For the first time that morning, he looked vulnerable.

Only for a second.

Then the wall returned.

"I don't want to discuss our marriage in the car."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to arrive at the conference looking like I've been crying."

His expression softened.

"You wouldn't cry."

"You don't know that."

"I know you better than you think."

I laughed bitterly.

"That's the problem."

Silence returned.

But this time, it wasn't uncomfortable.

It was heavy.

Full of everything neither of us was willing to say.

---

The conference was being held at an exclusive resort outside the city.

Three hours later, we arrived.

I stepped out of the vehicle and looked up at the enormous glass building surrounded by perfectly maintained gardens.

"This is beautiful."

Damien watched me instead of the resort.

"Yes."

I looked at him.

He wasn't looking at the building.

He was looking at me.

I immediately turned away.

"Where's the conference hall?"

"Inside."

We walked through the lobby.

People immediately recognized Damien.

Heads turned.

Whispers followed.

He was used to it.

I wasn't.

A woman in a navy-blue dress approached us with a bright smile.

"Damien!"

She hugged him.

My stomach tightened before I could stop it.

Damien stiffened.

The woman pulled away.

"It's been months."

"Victoria."

Her smile widened.

Then she noticed me.

Her eyes traveled over my face.

"And who is this?"

Damien looked at me.

"This is Amara Bennett."

Victoria's expression changed.

There was a brief moment of surprise.

Then recognition.

"Amara?"

I smiled politely.

"Hello."

Her eyes moved between us.

"I've heard so much about you."

I resisted the urge to ask whether any of it had been good.

"I'm sure."

Damien stepped slightly closer to me.

"This is my executive assistant."

Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"Your assistant?"

"Yes."

She smiled.

"Interesting."

Something about the way she said the word made me uncomfortable.

She looked at Damien again.

"We should have dinner tonight. There are some things we need to discuss before tomorrow's presentation."

Damien nodded.

"Send the details to my office."

Victoria smiled.

"Of course."

Then she walked away.

I watched her disappear into the crowd.

"Friend of yours?"

Damien looked at me.

"Why?"

"I'm just asking."

"You sound jealous."

I laughed.

"Don't flatter yourself."

His lips curved slightly.

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You were."

"Damien."

"Yes?"

"Go to hell."

He smiled.

And for the first time in three years, I saw the smile I remembered.

The one that had once made me forget every argument we'd ever had.

I looked away quickly.

"Conference hall?"

He nodded.

"Right this way."

---

The first meeting lasted nearly four hours.

I took notes.

Prepared documents.

Answered emails.

Organized schedules.

I focused entirely on work.

That was easy.

Work didn't have feelings.

Work didn't remember kisses.

Work didn't remember wedding vows.

Work didn't wake up at three in the morning wondering why the person who promised forever had become a stranger.

Damien was surprisingly professional.

He didn't mention our marriage.

He didn't stare at me.

He didn't touch me.

He treated me exactly like every other employee.

And somehow, that hurt more than I expected.

When the meeting finally ended, I gathered my documents.

"You're good at this."

I looked up.

"What?"

"Your work."

"Oh."

I shrugged.

"Thank you."

"I meant what I said yesterday. You're qualified for this position."

"Good."

He studied me.

"You don't have to prove anything to me."

"I know."

"You keep acting like you do."

I closed my folder.

"I have nothing to prove."

"Then why are you working so hard to avoid looking at me?"

I froze.

"Because you're distracting."

His eyebrows lifted.

I realized what I had said.

"Professionally," I added quickly.

His mouth twitched.

"Of course."

I stood.

"I'll organize tomorrow's schedule."

"Amara."

I stopped.

"Yes?"

He hesitated.

"Never mind."

I walked out.

I had barely made it halfway down the hallway when I heard someone call my name.

"Amara."

I turned.

Victoria approached.

"Can we talk?"

I hesitated.

"Sure."

She smiled.

"Privately."

That wasn't reassuring.

We entered a quiet lounge.

Victoria crossed her arms.

"I'll be honest with you."

"Please do."

"I know who you are."

I remained silent.

"Damien's ex-wife."

"Yes."

"I didn't expect you to come back into his life."

"I didn't come back into his life."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You work for him."

"I work for the company."

"Same thing."

"No."

She smiled.

"You know, Damien never talks about you."

My heart tightened.

"Good."

"But that doesn't mean he forgot."

I looked at her.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying you should be careful."

"Of what?"

"Of confusing old feelings with a second chance."

I stared at her.

"I don't have feelings for him."

Victoria smiled.

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

She walked away.

I remained standing there.

Angry.

Confused.

And, most annoyingly, hurt.

Because a tiny part of me wanted to know exactly what Damien had said about me.

And I hated that I cared.

---

That evening, I returned to my hotel room after dinner.

I was exhausted.

I had barely removed my shoes when there was a knock on the door.

I froze.

I wasn't expecting anyone.

Another knock.

I approached the door.

"Who is it?"

"Damien."

My heart jumped.

Of course.

I opened the door only slightly.

"What do you want?"

He stood there holding a folder.

"Tomorrow's presentation."

"It's almost midnight."

"I know."

"Can it wait until morning?"

"It could."

"Then why are you here?"

His eyes met mine.

"Because I wanted to see you."

My heart stopped.

I stared at him.

He seemed surprised by his own honesty.

Then he looked down.

"I mean, I needed to discuss the presentation."

I almost smiled.

"Right."

I opened the door wider.

"Come in."

He entered.

I immediately regretted it.

The room suddenly felt too small.

He stood near the window while I sat on the edge of the bed.

He opened the folder.

"The presentation begins at nine."

"Okay."

"We'll leave at eight."

"Fine."

"The first investor meeting is at eleven."

"Fine."

"The second is at two."

"Fine."

He closed the folder.

"That's it."

I looked at him.

"That's why you came here?"

"Yes."

"At midnight?"

"Yes."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You're a terrible liar."

He smiled.

"So are you."

Silence.

He walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

"Amara."

I looked at him.

"I didn't stop loving you."

My heart shattered.

He didn't wait for a response.

He opened the door.

And left.

I remained frozen.

His words echoed through my mind.

I didn't stop loving you.

I wanted to dismiss them.

I wanted to tell myself he was manipulating me.

That he was lonely.

That he simply couldn't accept that I had moved on.

But then I remembered his eyes.

There had been no arrogance in them.

No manipulation.

Only pain.

I sat down slowly.

Three years ago, I had left because I believed Damien no longer loved me.

Now I was beginning to wonder whether I had been wrong.

And that thought terrified me more than anything.

Because if Damien still loved me...

Then maybe the biggest secret in our marriage wasn't that he had stopped loving me.

Maybe it was that I had never stopped loving him either.