A Divorce He Regrets (Raina and Alexander) novel Chapter 75

Dominic stepped out behind me, raising an eyebrow. “When did you get here?” he asked.

“I’ve been here for a while,” Nathan replied, his voice calm but warm. His eyes never left mine.

Dominic looked between us and then announced, “Nathan will be handling your case. Not only is he a partner at his firm, but his firm is an ally of ours.”

I blinked, stunned. “He knows?” was all I could manage.

Nathan nodded, his gaze softening. He stretched out his hand toward me, and I hesitated before taking it. Instead of a handshake, he pulled me into a hug, his voice low as he whispered, “It’s okay.”

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “We’ll need to head to my office,” he said gently. “We need to go over your history with your... ex.” He gritted the word, his jaw tightening.

At Nathan’s office, the atmosphere was calm yet charged with unspoken tension. He exuded professionalism, sitting across from me with a notepad in hand, his pen poised. But there was warmth in his expression that eased some of the turmoil in my chest.

“You really didn’t know Alex never filed the papers?” Nathan asked, his voice steady but tinged with disbelief. His brows furrowed, his confusion evident.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t. I signed them minutes after giving birth, Nathan. It was a chaotic, emotional moment, and I just… I trusted he’d follow through.” My voice wavered as the memory resurfaced. “We hadn’t spoken for years after that.”

Nathan’s gaze softened, and he gave a small nod, encouraging me to continue.

I told him everything—every painful detail I’d buried over the years. The anguish, the betrayal, the loneliness. I recounted the day I’d signed those papers, the exhaustion from giving birth, and the hollow feeling as Alex walked out of my life with barely a glance back. Every word felt like reopening an old wound, but Nathan listened intently, his pen moving swiftly as he took notes.

I couldn’t help but smile back, despite the ache in my chest. He had a way of making things feel less heavy, less impossible.

As I left his office, the air felt a little clearer, my steps a little steadier. But the moment I stepped into the hallway, my relief was short-lived. Standing at a distance was Alex, his presence unmistakable.

His expression was anything but friendly, his eyes dark and intense as they locked onto mine. His lips moved, and though I couldn’t hear him, I caught the words clearly:

“We need to talk.”

My stomach sank, and I clenched my fists, bracing myself for whatever storm was about to come.