Reclaimed By My Ex-husband

It was late when Nathaniel finally returned home. The moment he stepped inside, he froze in his tracks, and his body went rigid.

Zara sat on the sofa, waiting for him.

Regret twisted sharply in his gut as he recalled her call earlier. He had promised to have dinner with her. But his sudden and unexpected encounter with Kelvin had dragged him away and derailed his plan.

He had lost track of time when they started talking. By the time he had stepped out of the hospital after taking care of Kelvin's wound, it was already late. He had not expected Zara to be waiting for him. But she was there, waiting for him all this time.

Watching this scene, something inside him stirred. His chest tightened, a shiver of longing shot through him. Her gaze held him captive, his heart pounding furiously as he watched her stand up and walk toward him.

It had been a while since she had waited for him, greeted him warmly. Now that she had come to him on her own, his mind couldn't help but spiral with restless thoughts.

"You look tired," she said in a hushed tone that made the corners of his resolve unravel. She reached for his briefcase, her fingers brushing his briefly, sending a spark through him. "Let me take this."

She turned and walked toward the bedroom.

Nathaniel trailed after her in a daze. His mind questioned reality, wondering if this was a dream his heart had conjured to torment him. It felt as though the old Zara had come back—the wife who used to wait for him every night, greet him with a smile with a smile and wrap him in her warmth that chased away the day's fatigue. The burden of tension, worry, and frustration he had been carrying seemed to melt away.

She set his briefcase on the table and turned back to him. She met his gaze for a fleeting moment before she stepped closer. Her delicate fingers brushed his shoulders as she slid his jacket off.

His pulse thundered in his ears.

Her sweet floral scent seeped into his senses, intoxicated him. The nearness of her body, the subtle warmth radiating from her, sent a sharp current of sensation down his spine. He drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but instead, her scent left him more unmoored than before.

The memory of last night slammed into him: the feel of her skin beneath his palms, her flushed cheeks, the way her lips had trembled against his. He remembered her whispered pleas, the soft sounds she made, the way his restraint had frayed with every second. The aching desire rose inside him again with merciless force.

His control was about to slip. Every part of him screamed to close the distance, to pull her into his arms, to drown in her warmth and silence the storm of longing that had been tormenting him.

Nathaniel felt utterly powerless against what she awakened in him.

Last night, he had somehow held himself back. His self-control had stretched to the point of breaking. He wasn't sure how much longer he could contain the storm that raged inside him.

His hand rose instinctively, reaching toward her face. But before he could touch her, Zara turned away, unaware of his intention, and carried his jacket to the hanger. His hand hung in the air, gripping nothing but emptiness.

A muscle tightened in his jaw as he lowered his arm, shoving both hands deep into his pockets. He watched her in silence, her perfume lingering in the air between them, taunting him with the closeness he couldn't claim.

She turned back to him. "Go freshen up. Come down quickly. We'll have dinner together."

And just like that, she left the room.

Nathaniel stood rooted, his gaze following her departing figure. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the door closed behind her. The memory of his wet dream crawled back into his mind. A wry chuckle rattled his throat.

"It's going to be another torturous night," he muttered under his breath.

Fresh from his bath, he came downstairs to the inviting sight of Zara setting the table. The savory scent of grilled chicken drifted through the air, making his stomach rumble in anticipation. A smile tugged at his lips as he stepped into the dining area.

"You made all this for me?" he asked, settling into his chair, his gaze sweeping over the dishes—grilled vegetables neatly arranged on a platter, a steaming bowl of mac and cheese, a crisp cucumber and tomato salad, and a glass of red wine glistening under the light.

"You've prepared so much." His eyes lingered on her with quiet curiosity.

"I didn't get the chance to thank you properly," Zara replied softly. "This is my way of showing gratitude. I just hope it meets your taste."

"I'm already loving it." He wasted no time in serving himself a generous portion. He scooped mac and cheese onto his plate, added a thick cut of grilled chicken, and a handful of vegetables before diving in with eager bites. "I can't wait to try everything."

His enthusiasm lit the moment, and Zara found herself smiling at the sight of him relishing the food. But as her thoughts circled back to what she had been meaning to tell him, that smile faltered. She was hesitant, unsure of how to begin.

"Mm, everything is perfect," he praised between bites, lifting his glass for a sip of wine. "Don't just sit there staring at me—eat."

Heat rushed to Zara's cheeks, realizing she had been caught watching him. She quickly ducked her head and reached for her plate. Yet the flutter in her chest only grew stronger.

"How was your day?" he asked casually, biting into a piece of grilled chicken.

Zara, lost in thought, delayed her response. "Busy… we are preparing for the upcoming event. Nicole will be here next week, and the dresses have to be finished before that."

"Mm," he murmured in acknowledgment. "I also checked the plot. Once Nicole arrives, I'll discuss it with her. If she approves, I'll close the deal."

When he looked up, he caught her staring blankly into the distance. The smile on his lips faltered, a shadow of worry tightening his features. He wondered if her mind was still burdened by what had happened the night before.

"I went to the hotel today," he said seriously. "I reviewed the surveillance footage."

Zara's heart gave a startled jolt.

"It's Jaxon," he revealed, his eyes ablaze at the memory of Jaxon's cruelty. He had expected her to gasp in disbelief, to deny it, but instead, Zara stayed silent, her expression unreadable, as though the revelation meant nothing.

Her indifference struck him like a blow. "You are not shocked? Jaxon finally showed up and tried to hurt you again."

"I know," Zara said coldly. "He is the one who dragged me to that man."