Reclaimed By My Ex-husband

Silence fell inside the house as all the banging and pleading from Nathaniel stopped suddenly. Zara lay still, straining to catch the faintest sound from outside the door. But nothing came.

She exhaled slowly. "Finally, he has left," she whispered with both relief and exhaustion.

Curling onto her side, Zara pulled the blanket over her shoulder, but sleep did not come easily. Her lashes fluttered open again as her mind replayed their argument, Nathaniel's words echoing in her head.

Someone had stolen data from his laptop. Who could have taken it?

No one else had visited except Riya. Could it be that Riya had slipped into the study and taken the file?

The realization made her jaw clench.

"That woman," she muttered, resentment filling her chest.

Zara had never trusted Riya, but to think she would go as far as stealing confidential information from Nathaniel's laptop filled her with contempt.

Wasn't Riya the one who professed to love him so dearly? What kind of love was this? Betrayal wrapped in sweetness?

Her lips curled in a bitter sneer. "Nathaniel trusts her the most. The whole Grant family adores her. None of them knows they are cherishing a venomous snake. Even if her mask falls, they probably won't believe it."

She wondered if Nathaniel would believe her if she warned him that Riya might have been behind it all.

"I don't care if he believes me or not," she whispered. "I'll still warn him. Let him choose whether to keep trusting her."

With that final thought, she snuggled into the pillow. Slowly, her breaths evened out, and at last, sleep tugged her under.

When she woke up again, it was already dawn. Pale golden light streamed through the curtains.

Zara stirred, stretching and yawning, her throat parched. She reached blindly for the glass of water on the nightstand, only to find it empty. With a little huff, she dragged herself out of bed, padding toward the door.

But the moment she opened it, her steps froze.

Nathaniel was slumped against the wall, just beside the door, his long frame sprawled across the cold marble floor. His head lolled slightly, his hair tousled from the night, his features drawn tight from discomfort.

He had been there the entire night in the chillness.

A sharp pang struck her chest, regret coiling inside her stomach. She hurried forward, crouching beside him. "Nathaniel…" She lightly tapped his shoulder.

"Uh…" he groaned as he stirred. His hand lifted weakly to his temple, massaging it as though trying to ease the pounding ache inside. "My head…"

Zara's worry flared, but her frustration slipped out instead. "Why are you sleeping here?" she scolded. "Why didn't you just go to the guest room?"

Nathaniel cracked his eyes open into a narrow slit. "Still complaining?" he muttered, his voice laced with hurt. "I waited here all night, hoping your anger would soften, that you'd open the door. But you…You are heartless, Zara. You don't love me."

Love?

The word ignited a storm inside her.

How dare he say that?

Her face grew solemn. She had loved him since the very first moment she saw him in school. For five long years, she had devoted herself to him, enduring every wound he had left in her heart only because of that love. And even now, after all the pain and mistakes, she was still by his side, still giving him another chance—because she loved him.

How could he accuse her of not loving him?

Her feelings for him were so deep-rooted that no amount of anger and disappointment could sever them. Even if the day came when she had to walk away, her love for him would never fade. It had become a part of her—etched into her very soul.

The thought stung so much that she muttered under her breath, scolding herself, "There is no treatment for foolishness."

"What? Did you just say something?" he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open as the pounding in his head grew worse. He shifted, grimacing as a wave of discomfort rippled through him. His throat burned, and every muscle in his body ached.

"I said—you are a fool," Zara snapped, masking her concern with irritation. "Who sleeps like this in the cold? Couldn't you find a room? Now get up."

She slipped her hand beneath his arm to help him rise. But as soon as her skin brushed against his, she froze when she suddenly realized his skin was scorching. Alarm shot through her chest. She pressed her palm firmly to his forehead, her eyes widening.

There was no mistaking it; he had a fever.

"You are burning." Her brow furrowed deeply, her tone stripped of anger, replaced by raw worry.

"Come on." She tightened her grip as she pulled him up on his feet. "Get into the room—now."

Nathaniel leaned against her, his arm slung around her shoulders. "My head hurts," he muttered.

Zara guided him inside carefully, but her words were full of irritation. "If you keep doing such reckless, foolish things, of course, you'll end up with fever and headaches," she scolded, yet she carefully settled him onto the bed. She tugged the blanket over him snugly. "Stay still. I'll call Eugen."

She reached toward the side table for her phone, but Nathaniel's hand shot up and caught her wrist. His fevered eyes searched hers with a childlike innocence. "Tell me first… you are not mad at me."

Her gaze turned as sharp as a shard of glass. "Of course, I'm mad at you—very much," she burst out. Anger, regret, and deep worry tangled together, breaking her composure. "Do you think tormenting yourself like this will earn my forgiveness? No… I won't forgive you. If you are truly sorry, stop doing things that only hurt me more."

Her lips quivered as tears pooled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

Nathaniel's chest ached at the sight of her tears. He pulled her into his arms. Her anger was easier to endure than her silence. To him, her anger, even her yelling—anything was better than her cold indifference, which he could never withstand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I troubled you."

"Yes, you troubled me," she shot back. "First, you doubted me—looked at me like I was a thief. Then you slept outside like that… what are you trying to prove?"

Her throat tightened as she tried to swallow her sobs. "Your actions torment me. Sometimes, I really hate you."

She slammed her fist on his stomach.

He let out a sharp groan, his muscles tensing in reflex.

Zara's expression shifted in an instant, the fire in her eyes dimming into alarm.

"Does it really hurt?" Color drained from her face as guilt twisted her features.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he met her gaze. "No…I'm only pretending."

Zara's chest heaved with exasperation. She turned away. "You and your dear sister are the same—always pretending."