Divorced But Never Letting Go Chapter 134

RENE

 “Hi, honey,” Cyril said as he strolled into my living room, completely uninvited.

 The fact that he didn’t even bother knocking made his sudden appearance all the more unnerving. I was just thankful he hadn’t shown up while my mother was here.

 “Hey… you’re here,” I said, forcing a smile as I leaned in to return his kiss, pretending his arrival didn’t unsettle me. The last thing I wanted was for Cyril to sense he wasn’t welcome.

 Despite my best efforts, though, he wasn’t buying it. Cyril wasn’t stupid. He could already tell something was off.

 I tried to make small talk, throwing out casual lines to deflect his attention, but he wasn’t listening. It felt like talking to a brick wall.

 “Hello, Cyril.” I waved a hand in front of his face. “I’m talking to you. Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?” I let my voice falter, playing the victim like a pro.

 He chuckled, a low, bitter sound. “Really? You’re gonna pull this now?”

 Before I could respond, he stood abruptly, folding his arms as he stared at the wall.

 I stayed rooted where I was, thinking carefully before making my next move. I wasn’t about to shoot myself in the foot by saying the wrong thing.

 After rehearsing my lines in my head, I walked over, slipping my arms around his shoulders and kissing his neck. “What’s the matter, baby? Why are you acting so distant?”

 Cyril pulled my arms away and spun around to face me, his eyes cold and unreadable. “Are you seriously expecting me to answer that?”

 I blinked, confused by the sudden shift. Was he… talking about me?

 A chill ran down my spine. Something was wrong, and I could feel danger lurking nearby, like a storm brewing just out of sight.

 “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

 I dropped my gaze, staring at the floor like I’d lost something down there.

 After a few seconds, I glanced up, feigning innocence. “I swear, Cyril, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please be more specific? You’re freaking me out.”

 But inside, my mind was racing. Did he know? Had my plans already unraveled?

 No. I couldn’t panic now. I promised myself I wouldn’t confess—not unless he dragged it out of me.

 “That’s what I thought,” Cyril said, shaking his head. “I knew you’d deny it. What was I even expecting?”

 His frustration simmered, and I felt the pressure mounting. Part of me was tempted to admit everything, just to get it over with. But I kept my mouth shut.

 “The problem is you, Rene,” he finally said, his voice laced with bitterness.

 Relief washed over me. So that was it? Just some petty grievance? I smiled inwardly, careful not to let him see how pleased I was.

 “The problem is… me?” I repeated, pointing to myself, pretending I had no clue what he meant. “What did I do?”

 “You’ve changed,” he snapped. “Lately, I keep telling myself I don’t need anyone else… and guess who made me feel that way? You.”

 Bingo. My instincts had been right. I mentally congratulated myself for staying calm under pressure. A moment ago, I’d been seconds away from crumbling, but now, I was back in control.

 I stepped away from Cyril without responding, letting his words hang in the air like they didn’t matter.

 Instead, I walked over to the bar and poured myself a glass of vodka. I took a slow sip, savoring the burn as Cyril stared at me, dumbfounded.

 He’d expected me to crumble, to beg for forgiveness. He had no idea I was already playing a different game.

 “Didn’t you hear me?” he asked, marching over. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

 I cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Apologize? For what, exactly? You might want to be careful throwing stones, Cyril… because I’ve seen your glass house.”

 My confidence surged back, stronger than ever. Just moments ago, I’d been trembling like a soaked hen in the rain. But now? I had the upper hand.

 “You know what?” he snapped, his voice rising. “I’m done. This conversation isn’t worth it. We’re just wasting each other’s time.”

 He turned to leave, but I wasn’t finished yet.

 I grabbed my drink and sank into the sofa, making it clear I wasn’t the least bit affected by his tantrum.

 Infuriated by my indifference, Cyril stormed back and yanked me to my feet. “We’re not done. We’ll be done when I say so. And right now, you’re going to answer my questions.”

 I winced at the roughness of his grip. “Let go of me, you pervert,” I hissed, jerking my arm free.

 “Fine. You really want the truth?” I sighed dramatically, as if this whole ordeal was exhausting me.

 “Yes,” he growled. “Nothing but the truth. And stop playing the victim—you’re the one at fault here.”

 Without a word, I set my glass down on the table and leaned forward, like I was about to kiss him.

 Cyril froze, his eyes flicking to my lips.

 But I had no intention of kissing him.

 Slowly, I pulled out my phone and handed it to him. “Here,” I said. “Everything you’re looking for is right here.”

 His face twisted in confusion as he glanced at the screen.

 Then his expression changed. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open in shock. “Holy shit… where did you get this?”

 “If I remember correctly, you were supposed to be at that hotel,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

 “Wait… what?” He shook his head. “No, no… you’re missing the point. How did you even—”

 “Wrong question,” I interrupted with a wicked smile. “The real question is how I found out that you begged Olivia to take you back after the divorce.”

 I laughed—a low, cruel sound—and watched as the blood drained from his face.

 He hadn’t seen that coming.

 Cyril stood there, stunned, his lips moving soundlessly as he tried to think of a response.

 And for the first time all night, I knew I’d won.