Billionaire's Regret: Chasing His Ex Wife Back

I stepped into my room after a long day at work, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. As I walked further inside, an unsettling feeling of emptiness hung in the air.

Something felt off, like a puzzle piece missing from its place. I headed to the closet, my heart pounding slightly, and opened the door. My eyes scanned the space, and I realized with a jolt that all of Vanessa's clothes were gone. All that remained was a single dress hanging there, a stark reminder of her absence.

With a sense of dread, I moved to the bathroom. The matching couple toothbrushes and towels were missing, leaving bare hooks and an empty holder. Even the scented candles that used to sit on the nightstand, filling the room with a comforting aroma, had vanished.

"I guess she finally left," I muttered to myself, feeling a mix of relief and sadness.

My eyes were drawn to a stack of papers on the nightstand. Picking them up, I saw it was the divorce agreement, Vanessa's signature already in place. I had expected her to put up a fight, to cause trouble before signing the papers. But she had signed them quickly, without any fuss. It was a small mercy in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

I decided to distract myself, taking a quick bath and having dinner. Then, I sat down with my laptop to continue working. But my thoughts kept drifting back to Vanessa. Was I too hard on her all these years? Had I accused her wrongly, just like she had said? Questions swirled in my mind, each one a sharp prick of guilt, but no answers came.

Then, I remembered the pictures I had shown Vanessa the night before. I grabbed my phone and sent the images to Lucas, quickly dialing his number. He picked up on the first ring. "Hello," he said.

"The pictures I sent, check them for me as soon as possible," I told him, my voice urgent.

"I'll do that now," he replied before ending the call.

As I waited, my mind kept drifting back to Vanessa. Doubts and regrets gnawed at me. Had I been too quick to judge her? Was I too harsh? Just as my thoughts were spiraling, Lucas called back. I answered immediately.

"Any news?" I asked.

"Bro, it's obvious that the pictures were edited," Lucas said.

"What?" I was stunned.

"Yes, the guy was edited into the picture," he explained further.

"F*ck!" I cursed, feeling a rush of anger and regret.

"What's wrong?" Lucas asked. "Did you do something to Vanessa?" He knew she was the one in the pictures.

"I divorced her," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I waited for his response, but the line went dead. I pulled the phone away from my ear, staring at it in confusion.

"What's wrong with him?" I wondered aloud, feeling more lost than ever.

I sat there in the silence of my room, the reality of my actions crashing down on me. Vanessa was gone, and it was all because of a lie. The emptiness around me felt even more profound, a mirror to the emptiness now within me.

I stood up from the chair, dressed up, and headed straight to Lucas's house. I needed answers, and he was the only one who could provide them. My mind was racing as I drove, questions swirling about Vanessa and what had really happened.

A few minutes later, I rang the doorbell and stood anxiously in front of Lucas's door. When he opened it, he rolled his eyes upon seeing me.

"Lucas, what's wrong? You suddenly ended the call while I was still speaking," I said, walking into his living room and closing the door behind me.

"Did you really divorce her?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes," I replied."

"Just because of a silly picture? For God's sake, you're supposed to trust your wife!" Lucas half yelled, his frustration evident.

"Why do you sound so angry?" I asked, taken aback by his tone.

"Seriously. I actually thought you were intelligent, but now I know that you're slightly stupid!" he snapped.

"What?" I was shocked by his harsh words.

"On a more serious note, how on earth do you think that Vanessa would do such a thing to you? She has loved you unconditionally for three years! I bet it's even more than that. You don't love her, but the least you could have done was trust her," Lucas said, his voice filled with conviction.

Hearing Lucas's words, I began to feel a deep sense of guilt. I hadn't even given her a chance to explain. I was at a loss for words, not knowing how to respond to Lucas.

"What are you going to tell your grandfather?" Lucas suddenly asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I don't know," I answered sincerely."

Can you help me check for her whereabouts?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"And if you see her, what are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'll apologize," I muttered, feeling the weight of my mistake.

"It'll take more than an apology," Lucas said, shaking his head. He sat down on his couch and began working on his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching him work. After about thirty minutes, he finally spoke up.

"Hey," Lucas said.

"What?" I asked, my heart pounding in anticipation.

"She was last seen at the airport," he said.

"What? Airport? Which country is she going to?" I asked, my mind racing with possibilities.

"I don't know," Lucas replied, his expression serious.

"Can you check where she went within the last week?" I asked, hoping for some lead, anything that could help me find her.

"Yes," Lucas said, returning to his laptop.The minutes ticked by slowly as Lucas searched for any information. I could feel my anxiety growing with each passing second. I thought about Vanessa, imagining her at the airport, alone and hurt because of me. My heart ached at the thought.

Finally, Lucas looked up from his laptop. "I found something," he said.

"What is it?" I asked eagerly, my heart pounding in my chest.

"She visited the hospital recently," Lucas said, his expression serious.

"Why? Was she sick?" I asked, worry creeping into my voice.

"Are you seriously asking me that? I should be asking you. You both lived in the same house," Lucas retorted, frustration evident.

"Send me the address of the hospital," I demanded as I walked out of his house, my mind racing with possibilities.

An hour later, I found myself at the hospital, nervously waiting for a chance to speak with the doctor Vanessa had seen. I knocked on her office door.

"Come in," a calm voice said from inside.

I walked in, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination.

"My wife, Vanessa Rodriguez, was here some days ago, right?" I asked.

"Yes," she nodded, glancing at her computer screen.

"What was she here for?" I pressed, my nerves fraying.

"She didn't tell you? Maybe she was nervous. She took a pregnancy test, and it was positive," the doctor replied, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"What?" I staggered, struggling to process the news. The doctor nodded in confirmation.

I turned to leave, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but the doctor's next words stopped me in my tracks.

"The child isn't yours," she said, her voice calm but firm.

I froze, the weight of her statement sinking in. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.