Replacing my ex

Chapter 16

After I finished cleaning the lunch dishes and wiped down the small kitchenette table, I sat back down at my desk, finally diving into my new digital filing system.

“Knock, knock,” a rich, friendly voice said, smiling warmly from my doorway.

I looked up, instantly recognizing him as Mr. Henry Powers, the Chief Financial Officer. He was a distinguished, avuncular-looking man in his late fifties with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor.

“Hello, there,” he greeted cheerfully. “You must be Lila.”

“Hello, Mr Powers. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, popping out of my chair and extending my hand.

He gave it a firm, hearty shake.

“Are the boys in?” he asked, nodding toward Cole’s heavy office door.

“Yes, sir. You may go right on in,” I told him.

“Thank you, Lila,” he said, walking over and letting himself into the office, clicking the door shut behind him.

I went back to organizing my schedule system, answering the occasional phone call as the afternoon ticked by. Around 4:30 PM, Cole’s door swung open, and Bash stepped out with his arm casually thrown over Mr. Powers’ shoulder.

“Good job, Lila,” Bash flashed me a brilliant grin. “Right, Uncle H?”

“Just fantastic,” Mr Powers echoed, both of them beaming at me with genuine approval.

“Um … thank you?” I replied, blinking in surprise.

“Cole filled us in on those fudged numbers you caught,” Bash continued smoothly.

“Absolute top-tier work,” Mr. Powers added.

“Oh. That. It could have been anyone, really,” I replied, feeling a hot blush creep up my neck.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Lila,” Mr Powers chided gently. “It serves no one, and it certainly doesn’t serve you. You know, back when I was a boy-”

“Ugh. Not now Uncle H,” Bash groaned, rolling his eyes playfully.

“What?” the older man protested with a laugh. “I’m a well of wisdom, you know.”

Bash groaned again while Mr. Powers chuckled warmly.

“We’ll leave you to it, Lila. Have a good evening.”

They strolled off down the hall, and the moment they disappeared, the intercom buzzed sharply.

“CEO’s office, Lila speaking,” I answered cheerfully.

“You are to leave your desk at 5:00 PM sharp today, and not a second later,” the CEO commanded, hanging up with a harsh click before I could even process the order.

At precisely 5:00 PM, I slung my purse across my shoulder, walked over to Cole’s door, and knocked twice before pushing it open.

“You know, Ms. Storm, some civilized people actually treat a knock as a polite request to enter rather than a threat,” he drawled, complete with his usual, infuriating smirk.

“Yes sir. And some civilized people actually answer with real words when someone knocks at their door,” I countered innocently.

“Excuse me?” he said, his eyebrows drawing together.

“You’re excused, sir,” I replied sweetly.

“What do you want, Ms. Storm?” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in mock frustration.

“I’m leaving for the day, sir,” I announced.

“And?” he prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Have a good evening, sir. See you Monday,” I replied. He didn't answer, just stared at me in stunned silence, so I turned on my heel and walked out.

As I waited for the elevator down to the lobby, my phone rang.

I pulled it out to see Sam’s name on the screen. She wanted me to know that she had the divorce papers ready for my signature before we could serve them to Ryan.

My knees suddenly felt weak, and I had to lean heavily against the cool elevator wall for support.

The reality of it slammed into me with the force of a freight train. It was actually happening. My marriage was truly over. The man I had dedicated five years of my life to had really betrayed me in the most devastating, unforgivable way imaginable.

“Lila? Hello? Are you there?” Sam asked, her voice laced with sudden concern.

“I’m here,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“This is good news, right?” she asked gently.

“Yes, it’s great news,” I replied, forcing strength back into my tone.

“Okay. Maybe you can sign them tomorrow when you guys come over,” she suggested

“Are you at work? I can swing by right now and sign them if you are,” I offered eagerly, needing to close this chapter immediately.

“Sure,” she said

Sam’s office was located about ten blocks away from Legacy Tower. I walked there, letting the crisp evening air calm me down and clear my racing mind.

When I arrived, Sam handed me the papers and a pen.

As I signed my name across the dotted lines, hot tears rolled silently down my cheeks. Not out of sadness for Ryan, but out of pure grief for the time I had wasted.

“Oh, Lila,” Sam murmured softly, handing me some tissues before pulling me into a fierce, grounding hug.

“It’s real,” I whispered against her shoulder.

In that quiet moment, something inside me shifted. It felt liberating. A profound, aching release as I finally slammed the door on the last five years of my life, the good and the bad alike.

“So, who’s serving him these papers? ‘Cause, I’d love to do it myself,” I said, pulling back, my voice hardening into cold stone.

“Are you sure about this, Lila? Sometimes these confrontations get ugly, and guys can get violent,” Sam warned, looking hesitant.

“Let him try,” I said, my resolve unshakeable.

I wanted to hand them to him myself. I wanted to witness the exact moment the rug was pulled out from under him.

Seeing that Sam was still unconvinced, we eventually reached a compromise: she would drive me there so I wasn't entirely on my own.

I called Ryan’s office secretary first, pretending to check a schedule detail just to find out where he was. She casually mentioned he had gone home early.

So, Sam and I drove out to my old house. The driveway was empty, and the house sat dark and lifeless.

Which left only one other place. The downtown apartment where his mistress was stashed.

We pulled into the building's underground lot, rode the elevator up to the third floor, and I marched straight down the hallway. I didn't bother knocking politely; I hammered my fist against the heavy wood door.

A moment later, the lock clicked, and Willow pulled the door open, looking deeply annoyed, one hand resting protectively over the very faint, early beginnings of a baby bump.

“This must be the home-wrecker,” Sam muttered dryly from behind my shoulder.

“In the flesh,” I said, locking my eyes onto Willow’s wide, startled ones.

“Get Ryan.” I told Willow

“No,” she whimpered defensively, her voice pitching up. “He doesn’t want you.”

“Lucky me,” I answered smoothly, my voice devoid of any warmth. “Go and get Ryan. Tell him I’ve brought him divorce papers to sign.”

Willow’s eyes suddenly lit up with twisted glee, as if she had just won a grand prize. She spun around and scurried down the hallway, shrieking,

“Babe! Babe, come here!”

Sam and I exchanged a long, shared look of utter exhaustion and rolled our eyes in unison.

When Ryan finally appeared in the doorway, he was visibly shocked. But a second later, his features morphed into a sickeningly fake, pathetic expression of pure delight.

“Hon, I knew you’d come back to your senses,” he crooned, taking a step forward with open arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

It took every single ounce of my remaining willpower not to lean forward and spit directly in his face.