The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 87

Not Giving Up on Her 

ELIJAH’S POV: 

That earned another small smile. She walked closer, curiosity in her eyes as she peeked into the bag. “Shrimp risotto?” 

“And lemon cake,” I added, pulling out the containers. 

Her lips curved upward despite herself. “You remembered.” 

“Some things are hard to forget.” 

For a second, she didn’t respond. She just stood there, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read- part surprise, part nostalgia, part disbelief. 

Then she looked away, busying herself with opening the food. “You could’ve just sent this with a driver, Elijah.” 

“I wanted to make sure you ate,” I said quietly, pulling up a chair. “And to see you.” 

She hesitated before nodding toward the table. “Sit. If you’re already here, you might as well join me.” 

So we sat, the silence between us filled with the hum of the iron cooling and the faint sounds of the city below. 

For the first few minutes, she focused entirely on her food, pretending not to notice the way I kept watching her. The risotto seemed to ease the tension in her shoulders; her eyes softened as she took each bite. 

“You really shouldn’t be here,” she murmured finally. “It’s late.” 

“I don’t mind.” I paused. “You’ve been working nonstop. You should rest.” 

She gave a low chuckle. “You sound like my assistant.” 

“I sound like someone who cares,” I said before I could stop myself. 

That made her look up. Her eyes met mine-steady, searching. “Elijah…” 

I swallowed. “What?” 

She hesitated, then changed the subject. “Your mother told me once that you never liked to eat alone.” 

The mention of my mother hit harder than expected. “She used to say that, yeah. Even when I was a kid, I’d wait for her and my father to finish their meetings just so we could have dinner together. Half the time they wouldn’t show.” 

“Must’ve been lonely,” she said softly. 

“It was,” I admitted. “But I got used to it. You stop expecting people to show up after a while.” 

“No. I just-” she exhaled, rubbing her temple. “You need to go.” 

“Hannah-” 

“Elijah, please.” Her voice cracked slightly, though she tried to hide it. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

The words stung more than I expected. 

I stood, silent for a moment, studying her. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. 

“Alright,” I said finally, picking up my coat. “Goodnight, Hannah.” 

She didn’t respond, just crossed her arms and stared at the floor until the sound of my footsteps faded down the hall. 

But as I stepped into the elevator, I caught a glimpse through the glass wall of her office-her hands pressed against her face, her shoulders trembling for a second before she straightened again. 

Whatever wall she was rebuilding between us, I could see the cracks. 

And I wasn’t giving up-not yet.