Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Evander’s POV

We both stood there, holding back, trapped by the walls we had built around our emotions.

Claire’s question lingered in the air, suffocating me. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but somehow I always did. My words, my actions— they always seemed to cut deeper than I intended.

"I..." I started, but even as I tried to form a response, the look on her face silenced me again. She was waiting for my response, her vulnerability exposed like a wound I had inflicted on her. It was a look that tore at me, making me feel smaller than ever before.

I took a shaky breath, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. What could I possibly say to make this right? How could I explain that my words weren’t meant to push her away but to protect her— from me, from everything I had done and she had been through.

But even as I wrestled with my thoughts, I knew one thing for sure: she deserved an answer. And I needed to find the courage to give it to her.

"Yes... You heard me right!" I said, taking a deep breath to steady the storm raging inside me. "I will let you go. I will divorce you as you have always wished, and... I will never look back at you again."

The words left my mouth like shards of glass, cutting through the fragile silence between us. For a moment, Claire just stood there, her eyes widening in disbelief. Then, as if the weight of my words had physically struck her, she stumbled back, her knees giving out as she fell to the floor with a thud.

The sound of her falling jolted the maid, who came rushing into the dining area, her face pale with concern. She hesitated, unsure of what to do as the tension in the room became almost unbearable. Neither Claire nor I spoke in her presence.

Claire’s tear-filled eyes met mine, her gaze piercing straight into my soul. Her silent heartbreak was louder than any words she could have spoken.

"Leave us alone," I said to the maid, my tone sharp and commanding. There was no room for argument.

The maid gave a quick nod and hurriedly exited, leaving us alone in the heavy silence. I kneeled beside Claire and extended my hand to her, trying to mask the desperation I felt. "Please, stand up," I said softly.

But instead of taking my hand, she slapped it away with a force that startled me. Her eyes burned with bitterness, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "Do not tell me what to do!" she snapped, her words cutting through my cold demenour I was tyring to put.

"You are the one who dragged me into your world this time," she continued as her voice cracked under the heavy emotions she was feeling at the moment. "And now you are asking me to leave?!"

Her words hit me harder than any slap ever could.

"You are always like that, Evander!" She said as her tone was full of accusation, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You never once asked me what I wanted. Never once tried to understand if I was willing or not. All you ever do is decide for me, like my choices— my feelings— don’t even matter!"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. I could only stare at her, helpless against the storm of emotions she unleashed. Every word she said was true, and hearing it from her lips broke something inside me.

I wanted to speak, to defend myself, to tell her that I never meant to hurt her. But as her tears fell and her shoulders shook, I realized there was nothing I could say that would make this better. I had built these walls around us, and now they were crumbling, leaving us both exposed and wounded.

"I... I want to hear you," I said as my voice trembled. I extended my hand toward her again. Desperation seeped into my words, but I pushed on. "Please, Claire... Can you just get up first?"

"Shut up!" She shot back, her voice sharp and cutting. Her glare burned into me, her red, tear-streaked eyes filled with fury and anguish. "If only you had heard me out in the past! If only you had taken my calls instead of ignoring me! We wouldn’t be standing here like this with nothing left!"

Her words were like knives cutting deep through my heart. I watched as she struggled to her feet, her movements stiff and unsteady, but she refused to take my hand for support. The rejection stung more than the time she left me, leaving only a letter to me.

"You," she spat, her voice trembling with the weight of emotions she had likely been holding back for years, "are nothing but a selfish, emotionless man! You only ever think of yourself!"

I flinched at her words. I couldn’t tell how to respond to her words, as I was feeling extremely guilty. She wasn’t just angry— she was hurt, deeply hurt. And I was the reason for every ounce of pain she carried within her.

"Claire..." I started, my voice barely above a whisper, but the words I wanted to say refused to come out of my mouth. How could I respond when every accusation she hurled at me was true?

Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders rising and falling as if the weight of everything was finally crashing down on her. I stood there, helpless, watching the woman I had broken try to hold herself together.

The room was suffocating in its silence. I wanted to reach out again to bridge the growing crack between us, but her rage held me in place.

Her words echoed in my mind— relentless and unforgiving. If only I had listened. If only I had cared more. If only I hadn’t been the man she accused me of being.

"Do not make me regret Evander! Try to understand me rather than planning on your own!"