The Ex I Funded A Satisfying Revenge Romance

Those photos—it took me two full hours to delete the last one.

Rain still hammered against the window. Inside, nothing but my own breathing broke the silence.

My eyelids grew heavier, and eventually I drifted off against the couch.

I didn't know how long I'd been out when I heard a key in the lock.

Before I was fully awake, cold arms wrapped around me.

A strange perfume invaded my senses, and I had to fight the urge to gag.

I shoved James away without a word.

"You reek. It's disgusting."

He went rigid, guilt flooding his face. He stumbled back a step.

"Scarlett, I'll shower right now. I'll wash it off, I promise."

He bolted for the bathroom. The water started running almost immediately.

I didn't watch him go. I just lifted my eyes to the window—lightning still tearing through the sky.

When he finally came out, wrapped in a bathrobe, he approached me with careful steps. His voice had that pleading edge.

"Scarlett, I'm clean now. No smell. Nothing."

I didn't respond.

"Scarlett, let's have a baby. What do you say?"

The phone on the coffee table buzzed.

The screen lit up—Michelle.

I only glanced at it, but I still caught the words.

James, the thunder is so loud. I'm scared all alone. Can you come over?

His gaze flickered. He reached over and turned the screen off.

He crouched down, took my hand, made his voice even softer.

"Scarlett, it's nothing important. Let's not talk about unpleasant things. I—"

The phone erupted again, vibrating nonstop.

The screen lit up, went dark, lit up again. Message after message.

James, I'm really scared. I think I hear footsteps outside.

James, where are you? Answer me!

Someone's knocking on my door. James, help me.

After that last one, the phone went dead silent.

James snatched it up. His fingers were shaking so badly he almost dropped it. He dialed her number instantly.

It was like he'd forgotten I existed. Forgotten that seconds ago he'd been promising me a baby, promising me a future.

He pressed the phone to his ear and shouted.

"Michelle! Pick up! Michelle!"

No answer. He didn't even finish dressing—just ran for the door barefoot.

Only at the entryway did he freeze, like something finally clicked.

Oh. Right. I was still sitting there.

He turned, glanced at me.

"Scarlett, something came up at work. I'll head over first. Get some sleep, don't wait up. I'll bring breakfast in the morning."