The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 29

Where My Heart Still Belongs 

ELIJAH’S POV: 

“Where the hell were you?” 

I turned my head slowly to find her standing at the top of the staircase in one of her silk robes, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes burned with accusation, and I already knew what was coming. 

“I asked you a question, Elijah.” She raised his eyebrows. 

“I heard you,” I muttered, loosening my tie. 

She stormed down the stairs, her heels clicking hard against the marble. “Don’t you dare give me that dismissive tone. You didn’t come home, you didn’t call, you didn’t text. Do you think I’m stupid? Who is she?” 

I blinked at her, exhaling through my nose. “She?” 

“Yes…she! Don’t play dumb with me. Who were you screwing last night?” she spat, her hands flying in the air. 

I rubbed a hand over my face, more tired than angry. “Janet, I wasn’t with anyone.” 

“Oh, right,” she sneered, stepping closer. “You expect me to believe that? You think I don’t notice how cold you’ve been? How you dodge me, how you barely touch me? It’s obvious. You’ve got someone else.” 

I finally looked at her fully, letting the silence stretch long enough that she shifted uncomfortably under my stare. Then I said flatly, “We talked about this already. And last night I was at Jacob’s.” 

Her lips parted, confusion flickering for a moment before her eyes narrowed again. “Jacob? As in your golden-boy baseball friend?” 

“Yes.” I tugged off my cufflinks and set them down, deliberately calm. “I didn’t feel like drinking tonight, so I went there. We talked. I crashed the night. That’s where I was. Not sneaking around with another woman. 

She glared at me, searching for cracks in my composure, but I didn’t flinch. I meant every word, and she knew it. 

“So why didn’t you pick my calls? Or aren’t you allowed to pick up calls at your golden-boy’s house?” 1 

I heaved a sigh and said, “I forgot my phone in the car.” 

There it was. Not anger anymore. Not suspicion. Just entitlement wrapped up in pretty packaging. That’s exactly why she was up this early and dressed, should have known. 

I exhaled slowly, reached into my wallet, and pulled out my black card. Without a word, I placed it in her hand. 

Her face lit up like a child at Christmas. “Thank you, baby.” She kissed my cheek lightly, her lipstick leaving a faint red smear. Then she tucked the card into her robe pocket, already planning her lavish escape in her head. 

“Don’t wait up for me,” she added with a smirk, strutting toward the stairs. “I’ll be busy packing.” 

I watched her disappear up the steps, the sound of her laughter fading into the distance. The house felt colder than before, emptier somehow. 

And as I sank into the leather couch, the image of Hannah’s eyes from earlier that day seared through my mind again. No amount of noise, chaos, or distraction could drown it out. 

She had my heart, and I needed to get her back by all means possible. 

But where do I start from?