Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Claire’s POV

The word home felt foreign, almost mocking, given everything that had happened.

Evander didn’t move at first. He stayed seated, his hands still gripping the wheel as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. Finally, he exhaled deeply and turned to face me.

"Claire..." he began, his voice low and steady, but I cut him off.

"Don’t," I said sharply, refusing to meet his gaze. "Whatever you are about to say, it doesn’t matter anymore."

I opened the door and stepped out of the car. I didn’t wait for him to follow as I made my way to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Behind me, I heard the car door shut, followed by his steady footsteps. I knew he wasn’t going to let this go. But at that moment, I didn’t have the energy to deal with him—or the emotions threatening to spill over.

I walked forth and halted in front of the main door of the mansion, my feet refusing to take another step. My hands trembled slightly, and my chest tightened as if the very air around me sought to suffocate me. I stood rooted there for a while, staring at the looming structure that felt more like a prison than a home. I didn’t wish to enter the house where every memory tormented me, where every corner seemed to whisper my failures.

"Aren’t you going in?" Evander’s deep voice broke through my thoughts as he stopped just behind me, his presence was heavy but oddly comforting.

"What is there to go in for?" I scoffed, refusing to look at him. My voice was bitter, sharp. "Do you think this... whatever you are doing— will impress me? Do you think I care about your hollow care after everything that has been said and done?"

"You are right," Evander said quietly as his tone surprised me. There was no defensiveness, no argument. I turned to look at him, curious despite the anger I was feeling at the moment.

"But it was you," he continued, his voice firmer now, "who said and did everything! I didn’t even get the chance to say anything or do anything!"

"Hah!" I let out a humorless chuckle, shaking my head. "That’s rich coming from you, Evander."

I opened my mouth to lash out further, but before the words could escape, something soft and warm collided with my legs. I looked down in surprise, only to find two sparkling eyes staring up at me with boundless joy.

"Mommy!" Eliam’s small, excited voice called out, his arms wrapping tightly around me. His little face tilted up, glowing with innocence and hope. "Are you here to see me?" he asked in his sweet, milky tone, the kind that could melt even the coldest heart.

Something tugged deep in my chest, softening the hard edges of my resolve. My lips curved into a small smile as I knelt down to his level, gently brushing a strand of hair from his face.

"Yes, Eliam," I said softly, my voice trembling just a bit. "I am here to see you."

"Yay!" Eliam’s eyes lit up instantly; his joy was so pure that it almost made me forget the heaviness in my heart. "Mommy, I missed you a lot!" He jumped toward me, arms outstretched for a hug, but before he could reach me, Evander— that bastard— grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back.

"Ahh! Daddy! Let me go! I want to hug Mommy!" Eliam’s protested immediately, his small hands flailing as tears filled his innocent eyes.

"What are you doing with the baby?" I snapped, glaring at Evander. My maternal instincts kicked in, and I moved swiftly, snatching Eliam from his hold. I pulled him close, wrapping him in a protective embrace. "Do not treat the child in such a rude way."

Evander stood there like a puppy being scolded, his face frozen in confusion as I held Eliam tightly in my arms. He clung to me, his tiny arms squeezing my neck as though he feared I would vanish again.

"But you are hurt!" Evander said suddenly, his voice defensive yet laced with concern. He stepped forward, his hands reaching toward Eliam. "How are you going to carry him? Let me—"

"No." My voice was firm as I turned my back to him. "I am fine." Without another word, I adjusted Eliam in my arms and walked into the house, leaving Evander standing dumbfounded at the door.

Eliam sniffled softly, his little fingers playing with the strands of my hair. "Mommy, are you okay? Did Daddy make you sad?"

His innocent question made my heart ache. I kissed his forehead gently, trying to reassure him. "I am okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry about Mommy. I am here for you now."

We reached the living room, and I sat down on the couch with Eliam still in my arms. He cuddled closer, resting his head on my shoulder.

From the doorway, Evander spoke again, his tone softer this time. "I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I just—"

"Enough, Evander," I interrupted, my voice cold but quiet enough not to scare Eliam. "Do not make everything about you. It’s about Eliam. Let me focus on him."

Evander hesitated, then nodded silently and followed behind me like an obedient puppy. I shook my head, guiding Eliam to the nearby couch. I gently settled him there before taking a seat beside him.

"Did you eat something, son?" I asked softly, tenderly caressing his small face.

"Yes, I asked the nanny! He is eating well," Evander cut in, answering on Eliam’s behalf.

I frowned, my eyes narrowing as I shot him a glare. "Why are you answering instead of Eliam? You are acting like you are trying to hide something," I said sharply, turning my attention back to the little boy.

I cupped Eliam’s cheek gently. "Tell me if Daddy hurt you somewhere, sweetheart. If he did... I will take you back with me."

Eliam’s wide, innocent eyes darted between Evander and me before he hesitated, his tiny fingers gripping mine. "But... but Liam wants both, Mommy and Daddy!" he said, his voice trembling with childlike sincerity as he threw his arms around me in a tight hug.

A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips as I hugged him back, the warmth of his little body soothing my heart. "If our son was alive, he would be the same age as you." I blurted out before freezing in place, the realization hitting me like a tidal wave.

The words hung in the air as I glanced at Evander. His face turned ashen; his usual stoic expression was nowhere to be found. Neither of us spoke, the weight of my words leaving us momentarily paralyzed.

Evander finally moved, silently crossing the small space to sit beside me. His hands rested awkwardly on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I... I didn’t mean to—" I started, my voice faltering, but Evander shook his head slightly, cutting me off.

"It’s okay," he said quietly, though his voice lacked its usual steadiness. "You miss him. I... I understand."

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