Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Chapter 144 Sarah pov.

The house was quiet, the kind of quiet I hadn't felt in weeks.

It was almost strange how still everything seemed after Marina's departure, like the air itself had stopped bristling with her constant comments and hovering presence.

I sat at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of chamomile tea. The warmth spread through me, but my thoughts kept drifting back to her-what she'd said, what she'd implied, and the way it all madefeel.

I'd been so relieved when she left, but now that the dust was settling, I couldn't shake this uncomfortable feeling in my chest. It wasn't just about her words.

It was the way they madequestion things I thought I'd been confident about.

"Everything okay?" Richard's voice pulledout of my thoughts. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching me.

I nodded, but it was more out of habit than conviction. "Yeah. Just thinking." He walked over, pulling out the chair besideand sitting down. His hand reached for mine, warm and steady. "Thinking about her? Again?" he asked gently, like he already knew the answer.

I sighed, staring down at my tea. "It's not like I'm trying to. But, yeah. I keep replaying everything she said. Not just her comments about the baby, but... I don't know, the way she madefeel like I'm not doing anything right." Richard frowned, his thumb rubbing circles over the back of my hand. "Sarah, you're doing everything right. You don't have to let her get into your head like this. She doesn't live here. She doesn't live our life." "I know," I said, though my voice was soft, uncertain. "But it's hard to just brush it off, you know? She kept saying things like she was trying to help, but it didn't feel like help. It felt like... judgment." Richard tilted his head, studying me. "Do you really think she's someone whose opinion matters? I mean, honestly, what has she done to earn that kind of power over you?" His words hitsquare in the chest. He was right-Marina's opinions weren't gospel, and yet I'd let them take root like they were. "I guess it's not even about her," I admitted after a moment.

"It's about me. It's like she poked at things I was already scared of. What if I'm not good enough? What if I mess this up?" Richard's grip on my hand tightened, grounding me.

"You're not messing anything up. Sarah, you're going to be an amazing mom. And trust me, I know this for a fact because I see the way you care, how much thought you put into everything. That's what's going to make the difference." His words settled something inside me, like a knot finally starting to loosen. I gave him a small smile, the corners of my mouth trembling just a little. "Thank you," I whispered.

Later that afternoon, as I was folding laundry, a package arrived. Richard brought it into the living room, holding it up like it was skind of prize. "Looks like it's for you," he said, setting it on the coffee table.

I frowned, wiping my hands on my jeans before sitting down to open it. Inside was a glossy baby care book with an intimidatingly long title: How to Be the Perfect Parent: A Comprehensive Guide to Raising Happy, Healthy Children. The note tucked inside was what gave it away. It was from Marina.

"Oh, great," I muttered, holding up the book like it was something radioactive. "This has her nall over it." Richard leaned over the back of the couch, peering at the cover. "Wow. Subtle as ever, huh?" I flipped through the pages, skimming a few sentences here and there. The tone was just as I expected- authoritative, prescriptive, and full of phrases like never, always, and must. I could practically hear Marina's voice narrating it. "She really doesn't quit," I said, though I found myself smiling despite the initial annoyance. Richard chuckled, coming around to sit beside me. "You know what? This is perfect." I raised an eyebrow. "Perfect?" "Yeah. It's exactly what you needed to prove you're over her nonsense," he said, taking the book fromand flipping it open tically. "Because now you can look at this and laugh instead of letting it get to you." I stared at him, then at the book, and back again. He had a point. Marina's attempt to "help" was so over the top, it was almost funny.

"You're right," I said, leaning back against the couch with a laugh. "This is ridiculous. And I'm not going to let it bother me." Richard grinned, tossing the book onto the coffee table. "That's my girl." That evening, we sat on the porch watching the sunset. The sky was painted in streaks of orange and pink, and the air smelled like freshly cut grass.

Richard was sitting beside me, his arm draped over the back of my chair. "You've been quiet today," he said after a while.

"Not in a bad way," I assured him quickly. "I've just been... thinking. About everything. About her. About us." "And?" he prompted, his eyes soft and patient.

"And I think... I'm done letting people like her makequestion myself," I said, my voice growing stronger with each word.

"I've spent so much tworrying about what other people think, trying to prove something But the only people who matter are you and me. And this baby." Richard smiled, his hand finding mine. "I like the sound of that."

I smiled back, leaning into him. "I don't need to be perfect perfect, I just need to be present, to care, to try my best.

That's enough." "That's more than enough," he said firmly.

For the first tin weeks, I felt a sense of peace, like Marina's visit had finally lifted.

As the sky darkened and the stars began to peek out, I let myself m imagine the future not with fear or self-doubt, but with hope and excitement. Richard squeezed my hand, and I looked over at him. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?" I asked.

"More than okay," he said with certainty. "We're going to be great." I believed him. And for the first time, I believed in myself too.