No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 68

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LAUREN'S POV

I sat there, completely frozen, my mouth hanging wide open as my eyes locked onto someone I never imagined I would see again. My heart gave a startled thump, my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating.

It was him.

The man from last night.

Every detail of him stood out as if my memory had sharpened under a spotlight — the sharp line of his jaw, the confident arch of his brow, and that infuriatingly smug expression he carried like a second skin. He was walking calmly, purposefully, heading straight toward the desk in front of me as if the entire entire thing belonged to him.

But how?

How in the world had he found me here? I hadn’t told him where I would be this morning. And even if by some strange coincidence this wasn’t about me, then what was he doing here of all places? Why was he dressed in a suit, looking like he’d just stepped out of some high-profile business magazine?

My thoughts spiraled rapidly. Could it be that he had also come for a job interview? The idea made my stomach twist. But no, that didn’t make sense. If he were a candidate like me, he wouldn’t be walking with that kind of boldness, that sense of belonging. His stride wasn’t uncertain or nervous like the others who had come in earlier, clutching their resumes with sweaty palms. Instead, he looked as though he owned the building itself.

Then another horrifying possibility hit me — did he already work here?

No. Absolutely not. That would be too cruel. Fate couldn’t possibly be so twisted as to throw me into the same company as him, to force me to see his face every single day. I clenched my fists on my lap, whispering a silent prayer that I was wrong.

And then, before I could gather my scattered thoughts, the words slipped out of my mouth.

“It’s you again.”

My voice came out sharper and louder than I intended, slicing through the quiet hum of the office. I jolted up from my chair in pure shock, the stack of documents I had carefully brought with me tumbling from my lap and scattering across the floor in a noisy mess. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I quickly bent down to gather them, embarrassed at my own clumsiness.

Meanwhile, he wasn’t even fazed. He didn’t look shocked, not even the slightest bit surprised to see me sitting there. His expression remained irritatingly calm, but then, right at the corner of his lips, a smirk curled — that smirk. The exact same one that had irritated me to no end the night before, before I had gotten tipsy enough to ignore it.

“It’s me again,” he said smoothly, sliding into the seat in front of me as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

My pulse quickened. He sounded amused, almost entertained by my reaction.

“You know,” he continued, “you have a very strange way of addressing people. Especially considering I told you my name yesterday. Or have you already forgotten?”

His tone carried mockery, but it was gentle, teasing, almost as if he enjoyed testing my patience. I swallowed hard, slowly lowering myself back into my chair, though my legs felt like they might give out beneath me. My mind scrambled for a response, but nothing came. I had no idea how to react to his unexpected presence here.

“That’s the first thing you say?” I finally blurted, unable to hold it in. My voice quivered with a mixture of shock and a sharp edge of anger I hadn’t realized was there until now. “After going completely ghost on me before I could even wake up?”

The weight of my words hung in the air between us. I hadn’t meant to sound that bitter, but I couldn’t help it. I remembered waking up alone, confused, still reeling from the night before. It wasn’t something I had ever planned to bring up, yet seeing him here reopened the frustration I thought I had buried.

He leaned back casually in his chair, his smirk widening. His eyes sparkled with amusement as if he found my outrage charming instead of offensive. “I didn’t know you wanted me to stay,” he said lightly, almost jokingly. His tone was playful, but his gaze was steady, holding mine as though daring me to admit otherwise.