Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125

Chapter 125

OLIVIA’S POV

I walked into the room carefully, balancing the tray in my hands so the cups wouldn’t rattle too loudly. The moment I stepped in, I noticed the bed was empty. Adrian wasn’t lying down anymore. Instead, he stood by the window, arms crossed, his gaze fixed outside like he was a statue lost in thought.

I placed the tray gently on the small table beside the bed. The clink of the cups against the ceramic tray must’ve snapped him back to reality because he turned around abruptly, his eyes meeting mine.

“You just left the room without saying anything,” he said, walking toward me slowly, his voice lower than usual.

“Well, I figured you might need a little time to yourself… and I also went to make some tea,” I replied, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s my special lemon and honey recipe. It really helps during times like… this.”

He gave a small snicker, the corner of his lips curling just slightly. That was good–I hadn’t seen even a hint of a smile from him since morning.

To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. He walked over to the tray and reached for one of the cups, then the jar of honey. I watched curiously as he poured hot water over the tea bag, stirred it with a small spoon, and added a splash of milk. followed by a dollop of honey.

After a quick stir, he brought the cup to his lips, taking a cautious sip.

“This isn’t that bad,” he admitted, almost sounding surprised. “I’ve never had my tea with honey before.”

I raised a brow. “Wait…so this is the same honey I left in the drawer over four months ago?”

He looked at the jar and shrugged. “Yeah. Not really a fan of honey, so I never touched it. I guess I just left it there.”

I let out a soft chuckle as I picked up my own cup. “Well, looks like it finally came in handy.”

He nodded, sipping again, and for a moment there was silence between us. Comfortable, but filled with unspoken questions.

His breathing seemed more even now. He looked more grounded. I figured this might be the right time to gently probe, to ask about what happened this morning. His scream had shaken me to my core, and the tears… I still couldn’t get over that.

“Earlier, when you jumped out of bed shouting,” I began cautiously, “I’m guessing it was a nightmare?”

He let out a long breath, eyes dropping to the table. Then he set his cup down and leaned back into the chair.

“Yes,” he replied simply, his voice low and flat.

“What was it about?” I asked softly.

“My mom,” he said.

I blinked. That, I wasn’t expecting.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I pressed, careful not to sound pushy.

He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No… I’ve got a lot to do this morning.”

Just like that, he stood up, grabbed his towel, and walked toward the bathroom. Before disappearing behind the door, he turned to look at me briefly.

“Thanks for the tea,” he said. “I feel better.”

1/3

I was finally about to leave. I was so close to getting the freedom I had longed for–no more walking on eggshells, no more pretending to be okay when I wasn’t. This was supposed to be the moment I felt liberated, but instead of joy, there was a strange tightness in my chest. A deep sense of unease.

It didn’t make sense. I had played this scenario in my head so many times, and every time it ended with me smiling as I walked away, never looking back. But now that the moment was almost near, all I felt was… conflicted.

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