Pursuing my ex Wife

Mission accomplished

                          Audrey's pov

I shifted on the couch, snuggling into the soft cushions as Isha crunched into a handful of popcorn beside me. The buttery scent mixed with the faint aroma of the semi-healthy snacks we had scattered on the table. I laughed softly under my breath—our attempt at balancing indulgence with “health” was laughable at best, but it didn’t really matter tonight. The premiere of Flames and Ashes II was finally here. Andre’s project. Well, Andre and Payal's project, I corrected myself silently.

On the screen, the flash of cameras lit up the red carpet like a fireworks display. Andre stood there, ever the picture of charisma, with Payal beside him, draped in a sleek, gold-slit dress that clung to her curves. And there she was—Katherine. She looked effortlessly close to him, her hand just a whisper away from Andre’s arm as they posed. I bit my lip, feeling the strange heaviness in my chest whenever they stood that close. After all this time, why did I still feel this way?

"How are you feeling about this?" Isha broke the silence, her voice low but curious. “I mean, it’s gotta be weird, right? Helping Payal with your ex-husband?"

I let out a nervous chuckle. "It’s... complicated," I admitted, brushing a stray curl behind my ear. “Andre and I were toxic, yeah. But it's not like there was this huge, dramatic love story. Our marriage was kind of... forced, in a way.” I smiled softly, almost embarrassed. "We never really loved each other, but seeing him... I don’t know. It stirs something up. And then Payal—she mentioned Andre still thinks about me sometimes."

Isha nodded, her eyes understanding. “That’s confusing as hell. Do you still think about him?”

I hesitated, and she seemed to pick up on it. “Sometimes. But... it’s better this way, you know? We were never meant to be."

Isha changed the subject, sensing I’d had enough. “So... what’s happening with Keith? The hot neighbor?"

“Oh, Miranda’s going to be with her aunt tonight," I said, my voice lightening. “We’ve got a date. I’m... excited, actually."

Isha clapped her hands, a little too enthusiastically, scattering popcorn everywhere. "Yes! Finally, you’re moving on!"

A soft buzz from my earpiece reminded me that while I was physically on my couch, I was still working. I adjusted it and tuned into Payal's voice, hidden behind her smile.

“What should I do now?” Payal whispered urgently.

“Hold his hand and smile,” I instructed, my voice steady despite the pang in my chest. Payal's hesitation was brief before she slid her hand into Andre’s. He gripped her hand confidently, flashing his perfect white smile to the world.

As I watched the scene unfold, I couldn’t help but notice the way sweat gleamed down the back of Andre’s neck. His buzz cut, the one that always made him look effortlessly attractive, made my mind wander, just for a second. It wasn’t love, but there was something. That confusing something.

Shaking myself out of it, I quickly re-focused on the task at hand. For the rest of the premiere, I guided Payal—where to stand, how to reply to Andre’s casual flirts, when to lean in. And it worked. Too well, in fact. Andre had clearly caught on, his smile slowly turning knowing.

I ended the call with Payal, feeling a strange mix of relief and… something else I couldn’t quite place. Before I had time to dwell on it, Isha stood and hugged me. "Have fun with Keith,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
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By the time Keith knocked on my door, I was ready. I’d slipped into a simple white dress that fell to my knees, paired with block heels and a loose bun that framed my face. Keith’s smile lit up the moment our eyes met, his dimples deepening.

“You look beautiful,” he said, handing me a bouquet of white tulips.

I blushed, accepting the flowers with a quiet “Thank you,” before we made our way to his car, a sleek Range Rover parked in the basement.

Dinner was at a high-end restaurant, the kind of place where the silverware gleamed under the low, romantic lighting. Over wine and soft music, Keith started telling me the story of Miranda's birth.

“It was a stormy night,” he began with a grin. “My ex-wife, Amy, went into labor earlier than expected. We didn’t even make it to the hospital before Miranda decided she was coming out.”

I gasped, captivated. “You delivered her... in the car?”

“Yep,” he laughed. “Right there on the side of the road, in the middle of a storm. I guess you could say we’ve always been a little... dramatic.”

“That’s incredible,” I said, genuinely amazed. “You and Amy were so brave.”

He smiled softly, looking down. “Yeah. It was something.”

I found myself sharing without really planning it, a story from my past. “My dad taught me how to cook,” I started, smiling at the memory. “We used to spend hours in the kitchen together, while my twin brother, Tyler, would annoy us to no end.”

Keith laughed. “So he was banned from the kitchen, huh?”

I nodded. “We even made a sign. It became this running joke in our family.”

He noticed the way my voice softened, and when I paused, he asked quietly, “You speak about him in past tense. What happened?”

I gulped, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of emotion. I turned away for a moment, blinking back tears. Keith’s hand found mine, warm and comforting.

“He died,” I whispered. “And... it’s my fault. But I don’t want to get into that. Not tonight.”

Keith nodded, squeezing my hand in understanding. “We don’t have to. Let’s just enjoy the night.”

And we did. We spent the rest of dinner sharing stories from our pasts, talking about what we hoped for the future, and appreciating the present. It turned out we had a lot in common—our love for wine, indie music, and even a shared interest in contemporary dance. Keith, surprisingly, loved baking, though he said cooking wasn’t his strong suit.

As the night came to an end, we found ourselves in the elevator, the energy between us shifting. One moment, we exchanged smiles, and the next, our lips met in a slow, intense kiss. It was gentle at first but quickly deepened as the space between us disappeared.

The elevator dinged, but we didn’t stop. Not until a voice broke through the haze.

“Keith?”

We pulled apart, breathless, and I turned to see a woman standing at the elevator door, her eyes wide with surprise.

My heart sank, a chill running through me.

Who was she?

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HE- "BOOOOOO, YOU SUCK!"

wait, wait, wait, before you get angry at me for not posting in almost two months🥲 I have a life update.

I'm finally getting better and I found a new assistant 😭 for editing coz I'm too lazy to edit...actually, I have way too much work outside writing to edit, so Chatgpt has been editing for me.

I've also been writing a lot this past week, and I'm gonna post all chapters I've written whilst I was still ghosting yall😵‍💫.

Anyhoo, please do vote and comment, and once again, I'm so sorry for updating late. I promise fr fr this time I'll be quick with my updates.

Also, THANK YOU GUYS FOR 400 READS😭😲 it's more impressive than when I first started writing, I appreciate you guys, and hopefully, you like my work❤️