CHASING MY EX-WIFE

CHAPTER 69

Richard's POV

Cupping her jaw with my hand, her lips tremble.

Not averting my eyes from her gaze as I take in all the emotions on display, I kiss the back of her wrist, wanting to feel her pulse against my lips, just like how I felt her heart beat last night.

Thumping. Beating. Pounding.

For me.

I turn her hand and kiss the inside of her palm, my eyes locked on hers.

She trembles against my hold, and I pull her away from the wall before embracing her.

I know she is shocked by my revelations. I couldn't hold them in any longer.

When she isn't pulling away like I think she will, I disengage from the hug, staring at her face. She is also looking at me, our hearts beating in sync, bringing tears to my eyes.

Grateful.

Regretful.

Happy.

Excited.

And most of all, appreciating this moment. This is a moment I never want to end. Except for Daisy.

She is the only one missing in the picture of my perfect and dream life. When Daisy is here, then everything else will be perfect and complete.

I don't need to be anywhere else. This is my home.

I firmly press my forehead against hers and close my eyes, relishing the fleeting moment before it fades away.

A minute has passed, and it is not ending. She isn't pulling away. She isn't shouting at me. She isn't scolding me.

Two minutes.

Before I can count to three minutes, something soft touches my lips. It emits the air and breath of that one woman who reminds me so much of mint.

The woman who makes my love for mint surpass my favorite meal.

I open my eyes slowly to see her lips locked on mine. Not moving. Just at standstill. Fitting perfectly, like we are made for each other.

Unable to control my desires any longer, I wrap my arms around her, gripping her waist so she can slam her body on mine while I trail every part of her body.

Before I can continue with my sweet torture, she goes still, as if realizing what we are doing. What she is doing.

We are divorced.

Ex-wife.

And ex-husband.

Slowly, her hands leave my arm, and she takes a step backwards, making me feel the terrible absence of her lips on mine.

She avoids my gaze. And I see her biting her lips in regret.

Being ex shouldn't stop us from coming back together, should it?

It makes desperation jump into my heart when I think of how she would tell me this is wrong or pretend as if it never happened.

I promised not to budge her, but I can't hold back anymore.

“Arabel?” I call, and she whirls around, going back to sit on the couch. “Arabel.”

I follow, hot at her heels. The moment she sits, she mutters without looking at me. “I’m sorry. I…I'm sorry, oh, God. I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean…”

“To kiss me?” I bend down to match her height. “You are sorry because you kissed me? You didn't mean to kiss me? Is that what you want to say?”

Her hands touch her lips. She seems to be wiping traces of my lips on hers, and it makes pain gnaw at my heart.

“Well, I am not sorry!” She shoots her eyes at me. “Those kisses—the one at the dance shop, the one right here when you came to tell me the truth, the one at my apartment in New York, and this right now—is a memory I will take to my grave so I don't regret it.”

I think she will lose her temper and snap at me to shut up, but she isn't. Instead, she looks more troubled than anything else, bringing my attention back to why she was here in the first place.

Silence falls, and I sit next to her.

“Why are you so sure that the dream will never come true?” Her question jerks me back to life.

“I've got my men protecting you and Daisy. You don't have to worry.” I respond calmly.

Her mouth drops open in surprise, and I smile.

“I saw the need to do that after the shootout, and the police were hell bent on closing the case due to insufficient evidence to back up our claim. I also have one of my men on Alex's trail. That way, we get to know if he is innocent or not.”

“Richard,” she cries out, tears rolling down her face, before she swings her arms around me to give me the hug of my life. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how relieved I am. I was so scared, I even thought of stopping her from going to school.”

She moves away. “I couldn't stop thinking about that dream. It felt so surreal, and I was certain something was going to happen to you, Daisy, or me. Oh, God!” She begins to laugh amidst her tears. “I don't know what I would do without her.”

I watch her ramble on in both tears and relief. It shows how much of a good mother she is to our child.

In contrast to me.

"One of them will bring me a comprehensive file on Alex's movements since the attack tomorrow, but he's back in New York. I need him to continue keeping an eye on him for as long as he is still there. Perhaps you can come with me to New York and see things for yourself," I inform her, hoping she will agree to come with me.

She looks thoughtful for a while, her mouth quivering for a minute before she opens it to give me a reply.

But then a sharp ringing tone cut her short. She directs her eyes to the bag beside her on the couch.

“Excuse me,” she mutters, picking up the call. “Hello.”

“Mrs. Mathew?” She rises up with urgency. “Yes, I did. What happened?”

I am now back on my feet too, and alert.

She listens to the person on the other side in silence before her eyes grow wide and she exclaims loudly. “What?!”

“What is it?” Quick enough to grab her from falling, I ask.

“Daisy!” she shouts, struggling to get out of my hold. “Daisy isn't in school. I dropped her off myself. I should have walked her in. She's not in school. Where is my child, Richard?”

Before I can process what she is saying, I let her go, and she hurries to the door.

Slowly, it dawns on me.

Daisy is missing.