Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (by Ammund) novel Chapter 80

CHAPTER 080

OLIVIA’S POV

I stepped out of the room, my heart still heavy with the weight of the conversation, My mind was racing with fragments of emotions and questions I couldn’t yet answer.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, my eyes met Adrian, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, his expression unreadable. His gaze was steady, focused on me, and I instantly knew–he had heard everything.

He straightened up the moment I walked out, clearing his throat subtly as if preparing to speak or perhaps offering a silent acknowledgment. But I wasn’t in the mood for an exchange. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever thoughts he had about what he’d just heard. So, without a word, I brushed past him, my heels tapping softly against the floor, echoing the silence between us.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until found Julian’s name. I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear, listening to the dial tone as I stepped outside.

The line rang several times before it disconnected. I sighed. He was probably away from his phone. Still, I needed him with me today. I gave it a few more seconds and tried calling again. This time, after the third ring, he picked up.

“Was in the shower a few minutes ago. Talk to me,” he said, his voice a little breathless.

“I got them to talk,” I said quickly, not wanting to waste time. “They don’t know my biological parents personally, but they did tell me which orphanage they adopted me from. So… maybe someone there might have answers.”

Julian let out a thoughtful hum on the other end of the line. “That’s not much, but it’s something. You want me to tag along?”

“Yes,” I replied immediately. “You’re the one helping me track them down. You need to hear everything firsthand.”

“Where should we meet up?” he asked, always practical.

I paused, then frowned. “Meet up? Adrian already knows I’m going to the orphanage. If he sees us together, what happened the last time might repeat itself I’ll just send you the address, and you can come straight there.”

“Alright,” Julian said, and I could hear the sound of movement in the background.” Send it now, and I’ll get dressed.”

We ended the call, and I immediately opened our chat thread, typing the address and hitting send. I tucked the phone back into my purse and stepped into the Uber that had just arrived. I gave the driver a small nod and settled into the back seat, staring out the window.

The ride felt longer than usual as if time had decided to stretch itself just to toy with

CHAPTER DAD

1. me. My stomach was in knots, anticipation mixing with fear. I was finally going to see the place that had been a part of my earliest years–the place I had no memory of but that might hold the missing pieces of my identity. I prayed silently that they would. have records, names, something that could lead me to the truth.

When the car pulled up at the orphanage gate, I handed the driver his fare and stepped out. The building looked old but well–kept, with faded paint on the walls and a

small garden by the side. I stood at the entrance, glancing up at the sign, a strange mix

of nostalgia and unfamiliarity washing over me.

Julian hadn’t arrived yet, so I waited by the gate, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Instinctively, I scanned the area–left, then right. No suspicious vehicles. No lingering shadows. Being married to Adrian had taught me to always stay alert, event when I didn’t want to be.

I pulled out my phone and texted Julian: “I’m at the gate. Waiting.” I kept my eyes on the screen, watching for the typing bubble to appear.

Nothing..

I refreshed the chat. Still nothing.

I tapped my phone against my palm repeatedly, glancing down at the screen every few. seconds, hoping to see a reply from Julian. The seconds dragged by painfully, my nerves building with each passing moment. I was growing more restless than I cared to admit.

I’d been waiting at the gate for a while now, and every minute that passed felt like a missed opportunity, but anticipation. I was so close. So close to uncovering something–anything–about where I came from, and I didn’t want to waste time standing outside.

The voice was polite, professional, and clear. I had to give them credit–security was tight. Which, under normal circumstances, would be reassuring. But in my case, it only made things harder. I didn’t know anyone who worked here. I didn’t have an

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