Part 3The CEO's Ex-Wife Is Better Off Without His Cheating Ass

Julian froze for a second, then let out a weary laugh.

“Still throwing a tantrum, are we?” he said, stepping closer. “Claire and I are in the past. You and I are married now. You need to trust your husband.”

He reached out to pat my head, his tone placating, as if offering me an easy way to back down.

I didn't take it. “Make your own dinner.”

It was perhaps the first time I had ever flatly refused him, and he looked genuinely taken aback.

I had no intention of continuing the conversation. I moved to sidle past him toward the bedroom, but his hand shot out, grabbing my arm.

“Liv, are you not feeling well?” he asked, his voice still infuriatingly gentle, painting me as the irrational one.

I snapped. “What if I’m not? In five years of marriage, have you ever actually cared?”

“We’re husband and wife. Who else would I care about?”

“Fine. Then tell me, when was my last period?”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. Of course he wouldn’t know. Just like he didn’t know I was pregnant. I’d had morning sickness in front of him several times, and he’d just casually told me to take some antacids.

“But you know Claire’s, don’t you?” I stared at him, tears welling in my eyes. I expected him to get angry, to yell, to desperately deny his relationship with her.

He did none of those things. He just sighed, a deep, world-weary sound.

“You need to calm down. I’ll be working late at the office tonight.”

There it was again. His escape hatch. Every time I tried to confront him, he’d retreat behind the shield of "work." A cold war waged under the guise of mutual respect, and Julian was a master of it.

Something inside me broke. I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and hurled it at him.

He didn't dodge in time. It struck him on the temple, leaving an angry red mark. His eyes, which had been full of weary patience, slowly filled with rage.

“Olivia, there’s a limit to this nonsense.”

He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving me in a crushing, dead silence.

There’s no point in screaming into a valley that gives no echo; you only exhaust yourself.

I slid down to the floor, my gaze landing on our wedding photo on the wall. I started to laugh, but the laughter choked into sobs.

I don't know how long I sat there, lost in a daze, before my phone rang. I pressed the answer button, and Julian’s furious voice crackled through the speaker.

“Olivia, get over here and control your damn friend.”

The mention of Tessa jolted me to my feet. I hung up and rushed to the restaurant he’d named.

The moment I stepped inside, I saw it: Claire, clutching her cheek, weeping pitifully in Julian’s arms, while Tessa was being held back by two waiters, looking ready to commit murder.

I hurried to Tessa’s side, trying to calm her down.

Julian didn’t even look at me. His face was a thundercloud. “Tessa, don't think for a second that because you’re Olivia’s friend, I won’t touch you.”

His voice was dangerously low. “Apologize to Claire. Now.”

“Screw you!” Tessa spat. “Don’t you dare try to frame me, you cheating piece of trash! I wish I’d slapped her, but I never got the chance!”

Julian’s anger pivoted and crashed down on me. “Olivia, what kind of lies have you been feeding her? I told you Claire and I are just friends! Are you deaf?”

His voice rose, drawing stares from the other patrons. “Today, neither of you is leaving until you apologize to Claire.”

“Fine,” I said, my voice surprisingly calm. “But before we do anything, let’s have the manager pull up the security footage.”

Tessa’s eyes lit up.

Claire, however, just cried harder. “It’s okay, Julian, forget it,” she sobbed. “I… I didn’t realize Olivia misunderstood me so deeply. Maybe… maybe you should just stay away from me from now on.”

With that, she turned and ran out of the restaurant, tears streaming down her face. Julian shot me one last venomous look before rushing after her.

“Olivia,” he bit out before he left, “if anything happens to Claire, I swear, we are done.”

My throat felt tight. I lowered my eyes, saying nothing.