Chasing My Divorced Ex Wife

Anastasia

The distant murmur of the domestic staff made me wonder if I had been naïve, sitting alone on the balcony of the grand estate that belonged to my husband. It was my birthday, another one spent in solitude, waiting for him. It had always been like this-waiting for his attention, waiting for him to share a meal with me.

"Mrs. Winfrey," Naomi's voice interrupted my thoughts, drawing me back to the present.

"Yes, Naomi?" I turned, raising an eyebrow at her interruption.

"Um..." she hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her apron, uncharacteristically unsure of herself. "Well..."

"Naomi, you're never this hesitant. What is it?"

Naomi was the most outspoken of all the staff and the one closest to me. Her hesitation only made me more curious.

"Well, Mrs. Winfrey," she began, avoiding my gaze, "do you really think waiting for Mr. Winfrey is necessary? You always wait for him on days like this, and he ne-"

"He will come," I cut her off, turning my eyes away from her. "Naomi, you know better than to bring the staff's gossip to me."

"It's past dinner time, and the house feels like we're mourning... The others are worried," she said, her tone dry but her concern evident.

I sighed, finally meeting her gaze. Naomi, in her early thirties, was someone I sometimes envied. She was married to one of the kindest men I knew. They both worked for us, and yet they were content, happy even.

"Have the chefs dispose of the dishes," I instructed, my voice firm. "But leave the ones I made for Quinn. Birthdays are better celebrated at night."

She gave me a look, one that silently reminded me of the truth I had been denying for so long-that Quinn didn't care for me the way a husband should.

"My husband doesn't love me," I knew it. Everyone knew it.

"Mr. Charter is here... He's the reason for the murmur," Naomi explained, trying to steer the conversation away from the sensitive topic.

"Fleur?" I asked, lifting my head. "Alone?"

"Yes," she confirmed before turning to leave. "He's alone."

I sighed deeply, rising from my chair to go meet Quinn's personal assistant. Fleur worked closely with my husband, so his presence here had to be related to Quinn.

As I walked down the hallway towards the living room, I noticed that Naomi had already dismissed the other staff. I opened the door to find Fleur standing there, holding a basket of flowers against his chest.

"Mrs. Anastasia" he greeted, bowing slightly. A smile tugged at my lips when I saw the flowers.

"Happy birthday."

"Oh my goodness! My husband sent these?" I asked, unable to contain my excitement as I moved closer to accept the basket. Flowers were my secret love, something only Naomi knew.

"No," he said, his confusion evident. "Mr. Winfrey didn't send me here."

"Oh..." I said, the smile faltering as I accepted the gift.

"You're a beneficiary of the company, so it's customary to