Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband (Olivia and Adrian) novel Chapter 188

Chapter 188

2

DORA’S POV

The sharp clatter of something heavy breaking down ripped through my dream like a gunshot, waking me up immediately. I could literally hear my heart beating loudly from my chest as I shot up to a sitting position on this horrible bed, the old bedsprings groaning in protest. For a moment, I blinked around the room, disoriented, still half–caught between the fading edges of sleep and the too real darkness that now enveloped me

The cheap standing fan beside the bed had stopped spinning. The little digital clock I kept by my pillow was blank, its red digits gone. breath, the realization sinking in immediately. the electricity had gone out again.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and slid into worn slippers before stepping onto the cold, cracked tiles. Pushing a served as a door, I peered into the tiny living room I shared with peeling paint and a stubborn cockroach or two.

I let out a sharp

aside the thin curtain that

The front door to the hallway was wide open, and curious voices filtered in. I walked over, running a hand through my messy hair. Outside, the corridor buzzed with anxious whispers and frustrated sighs.

Men and women in threadbare pajamas or half–buttoned shirts stood huddled together, craning their necks toward the staircase. Older tenants fanned themselves with plastic folders, while the younger ones scrolled through dead phones, still pressing the power button in denial.

“What happened?” I asked an elderly woman standing right beside me, though the answer came a moment later.

A man in an electrician’s uniform appeared from the stairwell, wiping sweat from his brow with a ragged handkerchief. “Listen, everyone,” he said, voice raised to carry over the murmurs. “One of the tenants used a high–powered appliance. That caused a short circuit and tripped the building’s main board. The whole system’s down now.”

Groans of annoyance rippled through the crowd as I felt my stomach tighten. This place was already on its last legs–ancient wiring, rusted pipes, and walls thin enough to hear a neighbor’s cough at night.

“How long will it take to fix?” someone shouted from the back.

The electrician grimaced. “Might take the whole day. Could be tomorrow, depending on how bad the board’s fried. You’ll need to charge your phones and other devices elsewhere until then.”

The words made my shoulders slump. “Of course,” I muttered under my breath. Just when I needed everything to go smoothly, the building decided to betray me too.

I turned away from the hallway, walked back inside, and slammed the door shut harder than I meant to. The wooden frame rattled, sending a shiver of dust down from the corner where cobwebs hung like forgotten lace.

The idea of stepping into a hall filled with millionaires and billionaires dressed in gowns that cost more than my yearly rent seemed unreal, like peering through glass at another life I couldn’t touch. But I promised myself I would go, even if it meant arriving tired and sweaty from two jobs.

1/2

My stomach grumbled softly, a small reminder that I hadn’t eaten. I stepped into the tiny kitchen, opened the single cupboard, and frowned at the sight: half a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and an apple that had started to bruise.

I made do, spreading peanut butter on two slices of bread and biting into the apple while I packed the rest into a small plastic bag for later. There wouldn’t be time to buy anything between shifts.

I checked my phone, forgetting for a moment that the battery was nearly dead and now couldn’t be charged at home. “Of course, I muttered again, shoving it into my old canvas bag anyway. I have to find somewhere to charge it–maybe ask at the café.

Back in the bedroom, I tied my hair into a low ponytail, ready to take my bath, and I caught sight of my reflection in the cracked mirror. Dark circles were already becoming visible under my eyes, worry etched into my expression. But I forced myself to smile. It didn’t help much, but it felt like something,

I wasn’t ready to give up on Adrian yet.

No matter what anyone might think of me, deep down, I still loved him. Even though I had lied to him years ago–lied in ways I sometimes hated myself for–I kept telling myself I’d done it because I thought it would protect us. And it had been years since then. Years of silence, of distance, of pretending like he didn’t mean everything to me.

I thought I’d given him enough space, enough time to heal from the wounds I caused. And today felt like the right day to finally try again–to reach out, even if it meant starting over from scratch.

AD