Chasing My Innocent Ex-wife Back novel Chapter 5

FLORENCE’S POV

“What…”

I stared at Jade, my mind struggling to process what had just happened.

She didn’t know me?

She didn’t know me?

The words rattled in my head, loud and hollow, echoing off the walls of my skull.

Jade simply got up and left the studio with her entourage, leaving me standing there like I was nothing.

I should have followed her. Demanded an explanation. Asked why, after eight years, she was acting like I was a complete stranger.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stood frozen, my feet glued to the messy, wire-and-tape-ridden floor. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

***

Later that evening, Blake suggested a team dinner at La Ritz downtown. A flashy, expensive place that I definitely couldn’t manage without Mason’s allowance. I still had a bit left on the debit card, and if I stuck to the cheap wine and appetizers, I’d be okay.

I hadn’t been to a fancy restaurant in years—a weird confession for the wife of a billionaire to make.

It felt nice. But I had a feeling the evening was going to go downhill.

Blake leaned back in her chair, swirling the red wine in her glass before lifting it to toast the woman of the hour. “Here’s to Jade Thorne, the next big Hollywood starlet and the face of Urbanite!”

“Gosh, stop it, Blake! I don’t even know if Hollywood is going to happen!” Jade responded, laughing.

“Well… either way. You’ve got yourself a pretty sweet collaboration with Mason Whitehill!” she winked at Jade.

I stiffened.

“I remember seeing you two at that gala,” Blake continued, tilting her head slightly. “You and Mason looked… close.”

The statement hung in the air like a carefully placed trap. Jade didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled. A slow, knowing smile. The kind that confirmed every single suspicion I had been trying to ignore.

I think somewhere in her, Jade always knew I loved Mason.

Even back in high school, Jade had this way of making sure I never forgot my place. It wasn’t cruel, not exactly. It was subtle, effortless, wrapped in the kind of charm that made people adore her.

“You know, Florence,” she would say, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, “Mason really likes a confident girl. Someone who keeps him on his toes.”

She didn’t say “not you,” but she didn’t have to.

Or at school dances, when Mason would pull her in for a dance, and she would look at me over his shoulder, eyes glinting, as if to say: See? He only sees me.

It was obvious… I was always the outsider.

As if to drive the knife deeper, Jade’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen, and her expression shifted into something… smug.

She turned to Blake. “Mason just messaged. He’s interested in seeing the campaign and wants to stop by!” she said lightly. “He’ll be joining us for dinner.”

Of course, he would.

I could count on one hand the number of times Mason had responded to my messages. The times I’d waited, hoping for a callback, a sign that I still mattered even a little in his life. And yet, here he was—showing up for her.

I needed to leave.

I clutched my stomach. “I’m not feeling well,” I murmured. “I think it’s late—”

Before I could finish my excuse, the doors opened, and Mason walked in. And close behind him… was Chris.

I hadn’t seen Chris in years. I’d heard he was now a big-time fashion photographer, always in demand. He would always click my pictures for photography class in middle and high school until he randomly moved to another state one day.

Both men spotted me and stopped in their tracks, both for different reasons. I scanned Mason’s eyes for any signs of an apology or explanation. But, for the first time in forever, he looked genuinely caught off guard.

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