Reclaimed By My Ex-husband

Nathaniel couldn't explain the sudden quickening of his heartbeat. There was something different in her eyes tonight—a lingering, intent look, soft yet unwavering. They weren't challenging him or pushing him away; they were drawing him in, holding him still as if the rest of the world had gone quiet.

He waited, every second stretching out, until she finally spoke.

"I…" Her voice faltered, cheeks tinged with heat. "I've noticed how sincere you are. Your efforts are clear. I know you are serious about me."

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I'm serious about you—about us."

He reached for her, his fingers brushing along her jaw before tipping her chin upward, closing the space between them, his lips seeking hers.

"Wait." Her palms pressed firmly against his chest, stopping him. "There is something I need to tell you."

Frustration flickered across his features. He wanted her in his arms, wanted to lose himself in her warmth, not in words. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He leaned forward despite her resistance, his lips just grazing hers.

She caught the look of impatience and desire in his eyes. Maybe words didn't need to express her feelings. Her action would be enough to tell him how much she loved him.

"Okay," she whispered, her arms sliding around his neck.

Nathaniel pulled her against him, his lips finding hers in a deep, claiming kiss. Zara kissed him back with equal fervor, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss quickly turned frantic, heat spiraling between them. His tongue teased at her lips, asking for entry.

She yielded and parted her lips; their tongues tangled, drawing them further into the moment.

His hands slid beneath the thin fabric of her nightdress, skimming her waist before gliding to the curve of her back. Her warmth seeped into him, stoking the desire he had been holding at bay for so long.

Every instinct screamed to take her, to feel every inch of her, but somewhere in the haze of need, a quiet voice warned him.

Eugen's advice echoed in his mind—Zara still needed time. If he gave in now, he might hurt her. That thought cut through the heat, and with a shaky breath, he forced himself to stop, every muscle tense from the effort.

Zara looked up at him, puzzled, searching his face for an answer. Nathaniel moved back, clearly hesitating. "You should sleep. I… remembered something."

Before she could respond, he jumped out of the bed, moving quickly toward the door as if afraid his resolve would shatter if he stayed a second longer. The door closed behind him, leaving Zara in stunned silence, wondering what had just pulled him away.

Her mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. A moment ago, he had been warm, eager, pulling her close as if nothing in the world could tear them apart. And then—he was gone. No explanation, no glance back.

It wasn't new. It had happened before. Every time she had gathered her courage and approached him to bridge the distance between them, he had pushed her away, leaving her to swallow the sting of rejection in silence.

Tonight was no different. The familiar ache rose in her chest, but this time it burned hotter, sharper, like a wound that had never healed being torn open again.

She blinked against the tears that blurred her vision, but they spilled over anyway. In her heart, the answer was already carved deep. The shadow of Nora was still there between them, unseen but ever-present, keeping them apart.

"Why?" She broke down. "Why can't I claim the man I love?"

She curled onto her side, clutching the pillow. She had been so sure, so ready to confess her feelings, to finally believe they could start over. But one moment had shattered it all. It seemed she would always be reaching for something just beyond her grasp.

A bitter laugh slipped through her tears. "Nora… are you happy now? Seeing me like this?" Her voice was etched with hurt. "You asked me to take care of your family, and I did. I gave them everything—my time, my heart. But what about me? Who takes care of my love… my happiness?"

Her sobs grew quieter, but the ache settled deeper in her heart.

She had never voiced such grievances before, nor had she dared to challenge her sister's wishes. But tonight, the dam broke, and all the resentment she had kept buried came spilling out.

"I was the one who loved Nathaniel first, but you stepped in and tore us apart." Zara's voice cracked under the weight of the years she had kept locked inside.

"You lied to him. My feelings never mattered to you—you never even tried to understand them. And then, as if granting me some favor, you pushed your husband and child into my life, binding me with a vow to care for them. You are selfish, Nora…"

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as she let the words spill.

Nora's smiling, radiant face came to her mind, brimming with life and joy. On her wedding day to Nathaniel, she had looked as though she had won the world, while Zara had stood in the shadows, smiling for appearances, clapping with the crowd, pretending her heart wasn't breaking.

"I chose to let him go," she whispered hoarsely. "I tried to move forward, and I almost did. I threw myself into my work and found success. Those were the happiest days of my life. I built something of my own—a small company with limited funds, but it was mine…"

The words faltered, smothered by the ache in her throat. Tears streamed unchecked, soaking into the pillow as she curled tighter into herself.

"But you couldn't let me have my happiness. You bound me to a promise that became my downfall."

The vow Nora had forced upon her now felt like a chain around her neck that she could never break. It felt like a slow, quiet death.

"I died once, but fate gave me another chance. I thought this time I could win him, make him love me. But I've lost again… You won't let me live in peace, will you? Even after you are gone…"

Zara's sobs came to an abrupt halt as the weight of what she had just said struck her. She was condemning her sister, who was no longer alive.

Hot tears blurred her vision as Nora's pain-stricken, pallid face flooded her mind. Her sister's helplessness, her urgent, pleading words—all of it came rushing back to her in an overwhelming tide.

'You are the only one who can truly love my son as if he were your own. Your resilience and patience are the only things that can keep Nathaniel from falling apart. Or else, he'll crumble. Please, Zara… marry him.'

Zara's lower lip quivered. The memory was sharp enough to reopen every old wound. A fresh wave of sobs wracked her, and she clutched at her knees as if holding herself together.

"I'm sorry, Nora," she whispered. "I didn't mean to blame you. I'm just… I'm running out of patience."