Page 59 of Falling for Mr. Ruthless
But my reflection shows nothing changed. The same eyes, same careful composure, same woman who rebuilt herself after Jakob walked away stares back at me.
But looks can be deceiving.
The drawer in my bedroom still holds those divorce papers. Four years since I folded them once and tucked them away. And I had to become someone new.
I remember that morning like it happened yesterday. The cream envelope with his name already signed. No explanation. No conversation. Just the silent expectation that I would complete the paperwork that would end six years of our lives together.
Jaden was in the next room, babbling to himself, unaware his world was splitting in two.
I didn't cry. Didn't scream. Didn't call Jakob demanding answers. I simply made breakfast, dressed for the day, and moved forward like I hadn't been shattered.
That was the first day of my reconstruction.
I went back to work. Started at the bottom again. Nights studying after Jaden went to sleep. Mornings before dawnreviewing cases. Building expertise in forensic strategy while other mothers were planning playdates.
Now I'm on the verge of partnership at Rowe Stratton & Vale. My name carries weight in boardrooms. My opinions matter.
All without him.
Yet here I am, body betraying me, dreaming of my ex-husband. Having sex with him has awakened something I locked away with those divorce papers.
It terrifies me how easily he slipped past my defenses. How my body remembers his. How part of me still wants to believe there could be more than physical chemistry between us.
But I can't go back there. Won't. He walked away once without explanation. And the woman I've become doesn't give second chances to men who discard her.
But how do I explain not being able to sleep without seeing his eyes or feeling his hands? And me wanting it.
All of it. All of him.
I leave the guest bedroom, hoping that woman stays locked in my dreams— because I can't let that happen again.
Jaden's voice carries from the kitchen—excited chatter about something at school. Jakob's deeper tone answers, patient and attentive, in a way he never was during our marriage.
The father now is so different from the husband then.
I pause in the hallway, listening to them together. The easy rhythm they've built without me.
My heart throbs with a feeling I want to ignore. I can't tell whether it's regret or longing. All I know is it's an awareness of time passing, of moments missed, and the stark divide between what was and what is.
"Mom!" Jaden spots me, face lighting up as if I've been gone for weeks instead of minutes. "Dad made French toast!"
"I can smell it." I force a smile, ignoring how right this feels. "Smells delicious."
Jakob looks up from the stove, eyes finding mine with unerring accuracy. Neither of us has mentioned the sex on the conference room table. Just falling back into our pattern of brushing it under the rug.
Until now.
His gaze drops to my mouth, then back to my eyes. A muscle ticks in his jaw—the only tell in his otherwise perfect composure. Heat climbs my neck. My body responds to a question he hasn't asked aloud.
"Coffee?" He turns back to the stove, breaking the tension before Jaden can notice.
"Please." I take the seat furthest from him at the island, ruffling Jaden's hair. "Ready for school, bud?"
"Uh-huh." He shovels another bite of French toast into his mouth. "Tyler says I can come over again this weekend. Can I? Please?"
"We'll see." I accept the coffee mug Jakob hands me, careful to avoid brushing his fingers. "You've got karate on Saturday."
"After?" Jaden's eyes—so like his father's—widen with hope. "Please? His mom said she'd pick me up."
