My billionaire husband chasing me back

Alexander sank deeper into his chair, staring at the shards of broken glass on the floor. His anger, though still simmering, was beginning to mix with a heavy sense of futility. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew James was right—he had no right to feel jealous anymore. Emily wasn't his wife; they were divorced, their lives legally and emotionally severed. The realization was like a punch to the gut, each breath reminding him of what he had lost and how little he could do to change it now.

The bitterness gnawed at him, twisting his thoughts into a tight knot of frustration. He couldn't stand the suffocating silence of his office any longer. Grabbing his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Johnson, his long-time friend and personal physician. Johnson was the only person who could understand him when he was at his lowest.

Without hesitation, Alexander dialed the number. The phone rang a few times before Johnson picked up, his voice warm but laced with curiosity. "Alex? It's been a while. What's going on?"

"Johnson," Alexander said, his voice strained. "I need a drink. Now."

Johnson immediately sensed the urgency in his tone. "Bad day?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. With Alexander, it was rarely just a bad day—it was usually something far deeper, something tied to Emily.

"You could say that," Alexander replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Meet me at our usual spot? I need to get out of here before I lose my mind."

"On my way," Johnson said without hesitation. "Give me fifteen minutes."

---

At the dimly lit bar, Alexander sat at a corner table, nursing his drink as Johnson slid into the seat across from him. The place was buzzing with low conversations and the soft clinking of glasses, but Alexander's mind was miles away.

Johnson studied his friend, noting the tension in his posture and the dark circles under his eyes. "Alright, Alex. Spill. What's eating at you this time?"

Alexander took a deep swig of his whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. "It's Emily," he confessed, his voice rough with frustration. "She's moving on. With Nathan of all people. And here I am, sitting on the sidelines, watching it happen."

Johnson raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Emily's allowed to move on, Alex. You know that. You two aren't together anymore."

"I know," Alexander snapped, his fist tightening around his glass. "But it doesn't make it any easier to watch. Nathan's always been there, lurking in the background, waiting for the moment I'd screw up." He paused, swallowing hard. "And now he's swooped in like some kind of savior."

Johnson gave him a sympathetic look. "Look, I get it. It's not easy seeing her with someone else. But you can't keep torturing yourself over this. You made your choices, and so did she."

Alexander shook his head, the words not doing much to soothe his bruised pride. "I feel like an idiot, Johnson. I spent so much time chasing after Vanessa, and now… now I see her for what she really is. Meanwhile, Emily… she's still the same strong, loyal woman she always was, and I threw it all away."

Johnson sighed, swirling his drink thoughtfully. "You can't change the past, Alex. Beating yourself up about it won't fix anything. The question is, what are you going to do now? You can't just sit here and drown your regrets in alcohol."

Alexander's eyes darkened as he stared into his glass, the amber liquid reflecting the dim bar lights. "What can I do? I'm not her husband anymore. I have no right to interfere in her life. I feel so… powerless."

Johnson nodded, understanding the weight of those words. "Yeah, you're not married to her anymore. But if you still care about her, if you still love her, then you need to show her that. Not by barging into her life or causing a scene, but by being better. Prove to her—and to yourself—that you've changed. If it's meant to be, she'll see it."

Alexander laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "Do you really think she'd ever take me back? After everything I've done?"

Johnson leaned forward, his gaze steady. "I don't know, Alex. But what I do know is that sitting here, feeling sorry for yourself, isn't going to get you anywhere. You've got to be the man she deserved all along, not the one who let her down. If you can do that, maybe, just maybe, you'll get a second chance."

Alexander let the words sink in, a flicker of hope stirring within the mess of his emotions. It wasn't much, but it was something. And right now, it was all he had to hold on to. He took another sip of his drink, his resolve slowly hardening. "Thanks, Johnson. I needed to hear that."

Johnson smiled, clinking his glass gently against Alexander's. "Anytime, buddy. Now, let's finish these drinks, and then you go out there and show Emily—and yourself—what you're really made of."

As they continued their conversation, the night wore on, filled with moments of laughter, reflection, and the tentative steps of a man trying to find his way back to the woman he still loved.