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My Ex-Boyfriend Wanted to Pursue Me Again Novel Cover

My Ex-Boyfriend Wanted to Pursue Me Again

After five years together, Shawn Maxim finally invites his girlfriend to meet his parents, gifting her a piece of intimate lace lingerie. Though the garment is painfully small, she forces herself into it, only for Shawn to coldly brand her a disgusting, seductive tramp. The devastating truth unfolds the next day when she catches him passionately kissing a woman who looks seventy percent like her. As he begs this lookalike not to get engaged, she turns away, ready to leave him behind.
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Chapter 1

Two days before the New Year, my boyfriend of five years, Shawn Maxim, suddenly told me he wanted to take me home to meet his parents.

He had always been a staunch believer in platonic love, yet this time, he bought me a set of sexy lace lingerie.

Overjoyed, I put it on, only to find it was too small—I could barely fit into it. Thinking he had simply bought the wrong size, I forced myself into it, even though the tightness left red marks all over my skin.

But instead of the reaction I expected, Shawn looked at me coldly.

"With a chest that big, you’re obviously just a seductive tramp. Disgusting."

Then he slammed the door and left.

The next day, I saw him with my own eyes, his eyes red-rimmed as he pressed a woman against the wall, kissing her passionately. I heard him ask her—

"Can we not get engaged?"

The woman bore a striking resemblance to me—about seventy percent alike, the only difference being the contrast between the spelling of pineapple and an apple.

I turned away to leave, but at that moment, he suddenly knelt before her, begging—

"Can you give me a kiss?"

——

I stared blankly at the lace lingerie scattered on my bed, then at the two entangled figures downstairs.

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

They kissed so deeply that a thin strand of silver string formed between them when they parted. The girl playfully punched Shawn’s chest, laughing.

That night, it wasn’t until 1 AM that my mattress dipped slightly.

Shawn only lingered beside my waist for a moment before quickly pulling away.

Of course. What was I expecting?

In our five years together, our love had been purely platonic.

Not only had we never kissed—we had never even held hands.

If his fingertips accidentally brushed mine, he would immediately wipe them with a tissue for half a day.

His explanation?

He wanted our love to remain pure, sacred, untarnished by anything physical. So I had no choice but to suppress my growing desires.

But if that was true—then who was the one passionately kissing someone else yesterday?

A cold voice suddenly rang from the doorway. "Ayra, get up and make dinner."

I glanced at the clock—it was only 5 pm.

Before I could respond, Shawn added, "We have a guest coming today. She likes spicy crawfish and stir-fried squid."

I couldn't help but recall the girl from yesterday. "Who is she?"

For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Shawn’s usually indifferent face. "She’s an outstanding young woman."

"You’ll know when she arrives. I have to go pick her up."

Without another word, he turned and left.

Holding my throbbing head, I forced myself up and went to prepare the table.

Yesterday, I had a fever of 39°C, yet he abandoned me without hesitation—to go and passionately kiss another woman.

Before long, Shawn returned with a young woman by his side.

"Hello, I’m Clara. You must be Shawn’s girlfriend." She smiled.

I looked at her, my mind went blank for a moment.

She resembled me—seventy percent alike, and the only real differences between us were our clothing styles and our figures.

She exuded a sweet and innocent charm, while I had always leaned towards a bold and seductive look.

Seeing me staring blankly at Clara, Shawn spoke in irritation. "What are you staring at? Hurry up and serve the food. Clara is starving."

At the dining table, Shawn’s face held a tenderness I had never seen before.

He carefully placed food on her plate, his every move filled with affection.

As Clara ate, a bit of soup splashed onto the corner of her lips.

I thought he would simply tell her. But instead, he reached out and gently wiped the stain from the corner of her mouth with his fingers.

Then what did that make me to him? I was his girlfriend, yet he treated Clara as if she were the one.

I clenched my fists tightly.

No wonder Shawn always frowned when I wore red dresses but smiled when I wore white ones.

It turned out—he was just searching for traces of Clara in me.

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