Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 2

CHAPTER 002

OLIVIA’S POV

My body felt heavy as I woke up the next day, the events of last night came flooding back. Adrian’s cruel words echoed in my head like a noise I just couldn’t get rid of. Even after I confronted him about who Dora was he just snatched his phone and left the room without giving me any explanation, leaving me with a broken heart.

But I couldn’t conclude yet, Adrian might not really be cheating on me, the text message wasn’t enough evidence.

But one thing was certain, I was determined to find out who Dora was.

I sat up slowly, the ache in my chest sharper than ever. I reached for my phone and checked the time. It was 9:30 am.

My heart sank.

I was never one to wake up late, but I guess the emotional hurt I experienced the previous night had clearly drained me.

I gripped the edge of the bed to steady myself. “You’re his wife,” I reminded myself.” You made vows. You can’t give up yet.”

+ decided to make breakfast for Adrian. I deceived my brain into thinking that if I kept on trying Adrian would one day notice my efforts.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Martha, our housekeeper, was already there, humming softly as she whisked eggs in a bowl.

She looked up when she heard me enter. “Good morning, Mrs. Westwood,” she greeted politely, though concern flickered in her eyes. “You’re up late today. Should I prepare breakfast for you and Mr. Westwood?”

I shook my head. “No, Martha. I’ll handle it.”

Her brows furrowed. “Are you sure? I…”

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“I just… I want to do this myself today.” I said softly, cutting her short with a faint smile.

She hesitated but eventually nodded. “All right, ma’am. I’ll be in the garden if you need me.”

I turned to the stove, cooked an omelet, toasted bread, and poured coffee. Maybe Adrian would appreciate the effort, maybe he would see I was trying.

When Adrian appeared, he was already dressed up for work, he didn’t even glance at me. He sat at the table, scrolling–through his phone as if I weren’t there.

I

small smile spread across my face. “I made breakfast.”

approached cautiously, setting the plate in front of him. “Good mo said, a

He didn’t look up, but his hand reached for the fork. I stood there, watching anxiously

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CHAPTER 002

as he took a bite.

The moment the food touched his tongue, his expression twisted in disgust. He spat it out into a napkin, glaring at me.

“What is this?” he yelled, pushing the plate away.

“It’s…” My voice trembled. “I thought I’d make you breakfast.”

He stood, grabbing a glass of water and rinsing his mouth. “Don’t bother next time,” he said coldly. “If I wanted to die of food poisoning, I’d let you know.”

I bit my lower lips so hard in a bid to suppress the pain his words caused me.

After speaking, he grabbed his briefcase and strode toward the door without another

word.

And I broke down in tears. My tears were the only thing that has been consistent in my

marriage.

I heard a footstep approaching and I knew it was Martha. I quickly used the back of my hands to wipe off my tears.

I knew Martha was aware of the situation in my marriage but I still couldn’t let her see me cry. I didn’t want to receive pity from her, because that would hurt even more.

Martha wore a sympathetic look as she approached. “Mr. Westwood told me to inform you that you should be ready by 7 pm. He’ll pick you up for the gala.”

I nodded, numb. The gala. Of course. That must have been why he came home last night so that we could deceive the world into believing that we were a perfect couple.

It wasn’t about me. It was never about me.

The thought crushed me, but I forced myself to remain calm.

By 6:45 pm, I was ready. Staring at myself in the mirror I noticed a slight change in my body but I shrugged it off.

I wore a white gown that hugged my figure. It was Adrian’s favorite color then when – we were dating, though I doubted he’d notice it this evening.

When he arrived, he barely glanced at me. “Let’s go,” he said plainly, heading toward the car.

My heart dropped to my stomach, stupid of me to be expecting a compliment.

The ride to the gala was silent, the tension in the air was so thick that I felt suffocated. I was uncomfortable and feeling a bit nauseous.

I needed fresh air so I wound down the car window and stared out, clutching my bag tightly as I tried to calm the storm inside me.

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