After the Divorce, the CEO Begged to Remarry Me

Ethan was lying in bed under a dark gray blanket, breathing evenly like he was out cold.

But the bed clearly had a single setup-just one side was used. The other half was perfectly smooth, not a single crease in sight, and even the pillow still looked freshly fluffed. No question-no one had slept there.

Grace's expression instantly turned sour. She spun toward Carol, completely dropping the gentle facade. "Which room are you staying in?"

Before Carol could even say a word, there was a loud clatter from the guest room-that was the metal pen holder she'd knocked down earlier while hurrying downstairs. It rolled across the floor, sounding unusually loud in the quiet house.

Grace's eyes zeroed in on the guest room and she stormed over. She shoved the door wide open.

Inside, Carol's drawing tablet and unfinished designs were still laid out on the desk. Her cardigan was draped casually over the chair. Skincare products lined up on the nightstand-every detail screamed that this was where she actually lived.

"Oh, great. You two are still sleeping in separate rooms?" Grace turned around, her voice low but stern, clearly trying not to wake up Ethan upstairs. "Did I not make myself clear last time? You're husband and wife, not some random roommates!"

Before she'd even finished, a rustle came from the master bedroom.

Ethan had already gotten out of bed. He was wearing dark satin pajamas, and even half-awake, his posture was upright and composed. His face looked pale, but his eyes were sharp and totally alert-no sign of just waking up.

"Mom." He walked over to Carol's side, his tone calm and level. "I told her to stay in the guest room. I've been having coughing fits at night. Didn't want to disturb her."

"Didn't want to disturb her?" Grace clearly wasn't buying it. She looked between the two of them, disapproval all over her face. "She's your wife. Taking care of you is part of that. Sleeping in separate rooms-what kind of message does that send? What about the Mitchell family's reputation?"

"The family's reputation won't fall apart just because we sleep in different rooms." Ethan's voice stayed steady, but there was a firmness underneath. "I know what my body can handle. No need to drag her into my mess and mess up her sleep too."

Grace was momentarily stumped, but she quickly turned to Carol, her tone softer but still laced with authority. "Carol, I know you're a reasonable girl. Just pack up your things and move back into the master bedroom today. I'll wait downstairs. You let me know when it's all sorted, and I'll be on my way."

Carol glanced at the determination in Grace's eyes, then at Ethan beside her. With a small sigh, she nodded. "Alright."

Only then did Grace relax a bit. She immediately had the driver start moving Carol's things from the guest room to the walk-in closet.

She followed in person, fussing the entire time. "Hang your clothes on this side, easier to access. Keep your daily stuff on the dressing table-no clutter. And if Ethan starts coughing at night, make sure he has warm water within reach..."

Carol didn't really respond, just gave a nod here and there.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Ethan leaning against the closet doorway, both hands in his pajama pockets, gaze fixed vaguely out the window. His expression was unreadable.

He didn't stop Grace from nagging, didn't say much of anything, like he wasn't really part of the situation-but at the same time, his quiet presence eased some of the burden off Carol.

By the time the clock hit 1AM, Grace had made sure every one of Carol's things was in the master bedroom and had watched them walk into the room together before she finally left, satisfied.Before leaving, she turned back and reminded, "Keep an eye on Ethan tonight, don't just fall asleep on your own."

The moment the door clicked shut, silence instantly filled the master bedroom.

Ethan walked to the window and drew the heavy curtains, shutting out the night completely. Then he turned around, glancing at Carol who was standing in the center of the room, voice calm, "If it's uncomfortable for you, I'll have Jack set up a bed in the study."

"No need," Carol replied right away, pointing to the carpet in the corner, "I can just sleep here with a blanket. Anything's better than getting ambushed by Mom again."

Ethan's eyes dropped to the rug, brows faintly furrowing, but he didn't argue. He headed to the bedside table and picked up a stack of papers-clearly work that hadn't been finished during the day.

Leaning against the headboard, the soft light from the lamp outlined his sharp profile. His fingers flicked through the documents with practiced ease, like the earlier disturbance had never happened.

Carol didn't expect help from him anyway. She pulled a thick cashmere blanket from the closet and spread it over the carpet.

Lying down, she listened to the sound of flipping paper nearby, oddly comforted by it.

Half-asleep, she felt something warm and slightly heavy draped over her. A faint woody scent lingered, familiar and calming, but she was too tired to open her eyes. Sleep pulled her under quickly.

The next morning, Carol woke up on her own.

Opening her eyes, she noticed a blanket had been placed over her during the night.

It was him.

Her heart skipped a beat, a quiet warmth blooming in her chest.

She folded the blanket neatly and set it on the nightstand before stepping softly out of the room.

On the kitchen bar sat a simple breakfast-sandwich and warm milk. No clue if the housekeeper made it or if Jack had brought it over.

After finishing the meal, Carol headed to the study. As she reached the door, she heard Ethan inside, voice cool and firm, carrying that sharp edge only business talks can have: "The risk analysis on this plan is too rough. Have the risk control team redo it. I want it on my desk by five."

He hung up and looked toward the doorway where Carol stood. His expression unreadable, gaze deep. "You're up?"

"Yeah." Carol nodded. "Grace called just now. Said she baked banana bread for you. Told me to bring it by."

She lifted the warm food container in her hand, passing along the message from Grace.

Ethan nodded, gesturing toward the desk without breaking from the screen in front of him.

Not until he typed the last word and closed the document did he finally open the container. His tone, as usual, was unbothered but meaningful: "Don't overthink what she said about having kids."

Carol walked over, leaning slightly on the desk with both hands. She had to admit, this close, Ethan's good looks were seriously next level. When he focused, there was this glow in his eyes that messed with her inner fangirl. She couldn't help teasing him a little.

"Are you saying I'd be taking a loss having your kid?" she smirked. "With your genes, Ethan, I'd say I'd be the one coming out ahead."

She had expected him to ignore it or shut it down coldly. What she didn't expect was that he actually looked up. His gaze was deep as ever, tone still calm, but there was something a bit more probing about it. "You've got a pretty unique take on what counts as a loss."

Carol chuckled. "Your banana bread's gonna lose its warmth. Eat it while it's still good. I'm heading to the office."

Ethan nodded slightly. As she walked out, he drummed his fingers lightly on the desk, eyes still thoughtful.