My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 33

James parked the car outside. I walked around to the other side and slid into the backseat, watching the flickering city lights pass by. The car was eerily silent.

James was completely focused on the road, his eyes fixed ahead, while outside, the world was alive with the noise of honking horns and distant voices, a sharp contrast to the stillness inside the car.

Suddenly, Alexander’s voice shattered the silence. "The card I gave you... since you’ve already used it, why return it and buy a new one?"

I didn’t turn to look at him, my gaze still fixed on the window. A bitter laugh curled inside me as I answered calmly, "I’ll spend if I want to, and if I don’t, I won’t. It’s none of your business."

"Is it because I went shopping with Isabella that you’re upset?"

"How many things have you already done for Isabella? It was just shopping. Why would I be upset?" I sneered, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes.

"Then what’s wrong?" he pressed.

What’s wrong? I wondered the same thing.

My heart felt empty. I couldn’t summon the energy for anything. It was like a phone running out of battery—just shutting off.

For the past three years, I had convinced myself that Alexander cared about me. But now, every time I saw him, I could only think of Isabella.

I wanted to ask him: if he liked Isabella so much, why marry me in the first place?

"Your hand... what happened?" Alexander’s voice broke through my thoughts as he noticed the red swelling on the back of my hand.

"I burned it while eating," I answered, my tone indifferent.

"Why didn’t you treat it? Jim, take her to the hospital."

I glanced up at him, his eyes full of concern. But for some reason, it only made me feel bitter. I quickly pulled my hand away. "No need, it’s nothing serious."

In the past, his concern would have softened my heart. Now, I just wanted to laugh. He was such a good actor, deceiving me for three years.

"Vivienne, you can be angry, but don’t joke with your health."

"I’m not angry, and I’m not joking," I replied, closing my eyes again, leaning back against the seat. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Alexander watched me, his expression growing more serious, his voice quieter, tinged with helplessness. "Vivienne, do you have to be like this?"

I cracked open an eye and raised an eyebrow. "What’s wrong with me? I just don’t want your concern. You don’t have to pretend to be a good husband anymore."

His face darkened. "Vivienne, what exactly are you saying?"

"Can’t you understand what I’m saying? Do you really not know what you’ve done? Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Are you accusing me of something?" His voice sharpened, and I could hear the agitation in it.

"What have you done?" I smiled faintly. "Do you even remember when our wedding anniversary is?"

Alexander paused, then answered, "September 20."

"What are you feeling guilty about?"

He went silent.

I smiled again, but it wasn’t a smile of joy. "I just found out... September 20 is Isabella’s birthday. You really have deep feelings for her, don’t you? Even our wedding anniversary is a reminder of her."

The words left a sharp ache in my chest, a tightness in my throat. I blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears. "Every July, you go on a business trip for at least two weeks. What exactly do you go for?"

The car fell into a heavy silence. James didn’t even dare to breathe.

Alexander didn’t answer, and I let out a bitter laugh. "Why are you quiet now?"

He didn’t even bother lying.

"Feeling guilty?" I asked slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid to admit it?"

"Since you like her so much, why didn’t you wait for her? Why did you choose to marry me? I’m not the only one for you, so why do you have to degrade me like this?" I said quietly, my tears falling freely now, my body trembling slightly.

I hadn’t cried in front of anyone since my father passed away.

My heart was soft, insecure, and sensitive, but I had learned to hide it behind a tough exterior.

I was just an ordinary person, and by luck, I had found my way into The Hawthorne Dynasty. It was a life full of anxiety and constant caution. The people there looked down on me. Aside from Pop-Pop and Nana, only Alexander had ever given me a warm glance. There was a time when I thought that even if he didn’t love me, maybe he cared.

But I was wrong. I was terribly wrong.

If he truly had feelings for me, he wouldn’t treat me like this.

In his heart, I wasn’t worth more than a stranger.

He treated me like one of those strangers—cold, distant, and even more ruthless. He hid everything deep inside, pretending to be polite, and completely fooled me.

The car was so silent it felt as though no one was inside at all.

Alexander took a deep breath, his eyes focused on my tear-streaked face. A sharp pang of pain twisted inside him, like something inside had been squeezed tight.

I had never seen him like this.

Seeing me cry seemed to trouble him.

He was silent for a long time before finally speaking. "I’m sorry."

Sorry. Again. No matter what happened, his answer was always the same: "Sorry."

"What else can you say besides ‘sorry’? Alexander, I’ve just realized your heart is made of stone!" I shouted, almost out of breath with anger, wiping the tears from my face.

"I’ll make it up to you."

I laughed—a laugh that felt almost absurd.

"Make it up to me? How exactly do you plan to make it up to me? By not divorcing me? Or maybe asking me to quit and leave? You can’t offer me any real compensation. What do you have to make it up to me?"

Alexander fell silent again.

I no longer wanted to talk to him. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions rushing through me.

"I don’t want to talk to you right now."

He remained quiet, his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes dull, lacking their usual spark.

The car slipped into another suffocating silence.

James didn’t dare glance at the rearview mirror.

The car pulled into the driveway of the villa and stopped.

I got out, grabbing the shopping bags from earlier and heading toward the house.

Alexander trailed behind, watching my decisive, brisk movements. He hesitated for a moment, then followed at a slower pace.

I went straight to my room, and Alexander paused at the staircase for a beat before turning toward the library to get to work.

Tonight, his focus was especially poor. He held a document in his hands for half an hour without managing to get through even a single page.

His mind kept wandering, as though something else was occupying it.

Time slipped by quickly, and soon it was well past eleven o’clock.

Alexander finally set the document down and returned to our room. When he walked in, he found the bedroom empty, and an inexplicable emptiness settled in his chest. Perhaps it was because we’d shared this space for three years. Suddenly being apart felt... wrong.

Without thinking, his eyes landed on something sitting on the table.

The card. Exactly as it had been returned.

Attached was a note with a single line: Remember to pick up the Divorce Decree on Monday.

Alexander’s throat tightened as he reached for the card, his fingers tightening around it.

Did she really want a divorce? Was she planning to go find her lover?

But if she truly wanted a divorce, why had she been so angry today? Why had she questioned him so passionately?

What did I mean to her?

He didn’t know why, but somehow, he found himself standing outside my door. He raised his hand, hesitated, then knocked softly.

I opened the door, still drying my damp hair, and saw him standing there.

"Something?" I asked quietly.