CHASING MY EX-WIFE

CHAPTER 84

Arabel's POV

A movement wakes me up.

Fluttering my eyes open, I lift my gaze to the open window, allowing sunlight to seep into the room and making it bright.

Slowly, I sit up, only to connect my gaze with Richard.

He's observing me. Sitting up in bed, making my heart stutter in my chest.

His eyes narrow, raking all over me as he asks. “Did you sleep here all night?”

His voice is not like the voice of the man I know. It's been a week since he woke up from his coma, and I hardly recognize him as Richard.

It hurts.

Mother persuaded me to stay back and come with him to the mansion. Maybe that will help restore his memory, but for over a week now, nothing has happened.

Nothing is working.

Not even having Daisy constantly around him. He was always watching her with smiles, but no form of recognition appeared in his eyes.

He doesn't even recognize his own child.

The more I think about it, the more I blame myself. The more I wish I could turn back the hands of time to change everything, Right from the moment he asked me for a divorce.

I should have at least told him about our baby. Perhaps that would cause him to change his mind, and we wouldn't be here today.

The more I think about everything, the more it seems to me like everything is working for a reason.

Why Eve is back is something I haven't found any answers to.

For a week, I haven't seen her. Probably because she wasn't there when Richard was discharged from the hospital, and she never knew we brought him back to the mansion.

For once, I am glad we didn't go to the penthouse instead. Eve might have gone there to check if he's there.

She is the devil's incarnate.

There is no evidence to show that she had a hand in the accident, but the more desperation she showcases, the more convinced I am that she planned it.

“Arabel,” his voice calls to me again, laced with nothing but sweetness. Even if everything has changed, the way he calls my name hasn't changed. “Did you sleep here?”

Quietly, I nod.

Each day, my worry increases. Worry about him never getting back his memories. I also fear that he may give up and cease to exist one day.

Panic grips my stomach. And it alway forces me to be here, near him.

"I should get you something to eat," I say, feeling his burning gaze. As I quickly stand up to leave, a force pulls me back, causing me to slump onto the bed, our bodies colliding.

I gasp.

With our faces a few inches apart, my breath becomes hard, making my heart thump wildly.

This part of Richard. It makes me fall over and over again. It reminds me of how he makes me feel whenever we argue and he does this.

It makes tears spring to my eyes, and I wish I could get that man back. I wish I could get those moments back.

He stares down at my lips, almost as if he wants to kiss me, but he mutters instead. “Tell me.”

As I get control of my emotions, I scoot backwards with a raised brow. “What?!”

“Tell me about you,” he says, flashing me a smile I haven't seen on his face in weeks.

I gulp loudly, thinking of a way to escape the question. I know it can help, but the thought of letting him in and ending up reminding him about just how we got divorce scares me.

“I am just Arabel. There is nothing more to it,” I reply reluctantly.

“Why do you keep avoiding my questions? What are you scared of?” He demands, as if reading through my mind.

"Nothing!" I almost yell in defense.

“Were we in love?” The next question almost makes me jump out of bed and race out.

Worry skirts the edges of my mind as I begin to think of what to say and where to start talking. The knot forming in my throat pulls tighter, making it difficult for me to say something.

“Was I in love with you? Were you in love with me, or was it a love triangle?” He asks again, desperation laced in his voice. “I want to know everything.”

I shake my head. “I don't know, really. All I know is we were divorced…”

“Bella?” He calls, and I shoot my head up in surprise. He hasn't called me that since the accident. “Sorry, Arabel.”

“Say Bella again,” I instruct calmly, waiting for him to obey.

“Bella?”

“How does that feel?”

“What?”

“Natural. Do you remember anything now?” He shakes his head, dampening my hope. “Why did you call me Bella, then?”

“Isn't that your name? ARABELLA?” I find myself nodding, ignoring the ache in my heart and the dashed hope.

I was almost jittering with excitement, thinking he remembered something. What else we need to do is something I have no idea about.

“So answer my question, Arabel. I know I asked for a divorce, but why I did it is something I have no idea about. Why did you leave if you loved me? Why did I ask you to leave if I truly loved you? Why?”

“Because you didn't love me.” My response is quick and sharp. His eyes widen and I continue. “I was the only one in love. You didn't love me because it was an arranged marriage. I thought I could make you fall in love with me, but it was too late to realize I wouldn't be able to do that. And we got divorced!”

What I just said answered his question, but it brought forth more questions and a whole new curiosity in his eyes.

“But why?”

Looking away, I announce. “I raised our 4-year-old daughter, Daisy, alone because I was so mad at you for rejecting me after loving you for years, and then we met again, and you won't let me be.”

When I turn my eyes to him, he is engrossed, listening attentively as if this is some sort of fictional story, not about us.

Our life.

“We became business partners without even knowing until it was too late for me to stop the contract signing. I was filled with rage and determined not to let you get to me. I lied and told you I was Bella Portillo, not Arabel Cooper, your ex-wife.”

He shuts his eyes, and I wonder if there are scenes racing through his head. But when he flicks them open again, all I see is regret.

He does not remember a thing.

Determined to keep going, perhaps it would help in the long run. "You didn't believe me, but you acted as though you did. I was always avoiding any interaction with you, especially after Daisy became friends with you without my knowledge. But you keep chasing, and I find myself becoming drawn to you again, even though I kept denying it until your accident.”

A sob threatens to leave my mouth, but I force it down, gulping loudly.

I think he will bombard me with questions. Especially questions about Eve and why she is claiming to be his wife. But he isn't.

His eyes are filled with so much innocence and sadness, making pity tug at my heart, and I wish I could wrap my hands around him in comfort.

What if he never remembers me? What if he never remembers or feels how much he loves me? What if he never believes anything I say about us? What if his past eventually comes, but only a part of it is filled with no one but Eve?

“You love me?”

I remain silent.

I know I promised to say the word as soon as he wakes up, but this feels too soon. Not when he is still trying to recover his memory. Not when he barely knows who I am or how much I mean to him.

Telling him I love him will have no impact.

“Did you forgive me? Did I ask you to forgive me?” His eyes are clear and glassy, like he is going to cry.

I nod in the affirmative.

“We were back together, right? Before the accident?”

I shake my head, unwilling to lie to him.

“Why?”

“I saw you and her again. Eve. She was at your penthouse, and I waited outside to know how long she was going to stay. She came out thirty minutes after looking all gittering, so I left in anger. " I find myself blurting out unconsciously, feeling annoyed as I can't help remembering what happened that night.

My anger isn't directed at him but at Eve. If she hadn't appeared that night, things would have been different, and he wouldn't be here, looking lost like a child.

“You were chasing after me when you got involved in an accident,” I finalize, looking down and feeling responsible.

When his hands touch me, they are warm and cozy.

His face is expressionless, and I can't make out whether he believes everything I have just said or doesn't.

I don't blame him for wanting to be cautious about who he trusts. If it were Eve sitting down here, telling him both the truth and the false, I wouldn't want him to believe her right away.

Same thing applies to me.

He is vulnerable right now, and he needs time to process everything that seems new to him.

“You don't need to believe me, but that is what happened. I didn't cheat on you like she claimed. I had no man in my life before you or even after you. Not because they were not coming, but because I…I…”

Shit!

What am I doing? Am I trying to profess my love to him right now?

Isn't that what I should have done ages ago? Perhaps I should have done this while we were still married, tell him how much I love him that night. Perhaps, that would have stopped him from asking me for a divorce.

He told me he never knew I was madly in love with him. He thought he was doing me a favor by letting me go.

Whereas it was nothing but pure torture. Even when I thought I had forgotten him. Gotten over him. And despised him.

He still remained.

Something cold touches my lips, and I find myself lip-locked with Richard, his eyes tightly closed, prompting me to drop my widely opened eyes to shut too.

This is what I have been wishing for. Ever since he laid on that bed, not moving any part of his body.

I wanted to hold him again. Touch his body. Feel his lips on mine. And caress him.

Now is the opportunity, but I can't find the courage to do anything other than let my lips move slowly on his.

When he also kisses me back with so much vigor, a strong belief hits me.

Richard will remember everything.

He has to remember everything, or I will be doomed for life.