The Billionaire Ex-Wife and the Beggar He Became novel Chapter 19

Everyone in their group turned to look at Julian and Felicity.

Felicity met Winona's gaze directly. Her eyes remained calm and sincere, and she offered a composed, faint smile. Julian, in his typical fashion, was aloof and detached, barely acknowledging anyone around him.

He saw no reason to talk to Winona before the lawyers finished drafting their divorce agreement.

Yet here she was, tailing him into the gala, waiting for him in the wings. Her relentless clinging hadn't changed in the slightest.

If she could see this coming, why make a scene by storming out and turning her back on Victor?

If she was going to cause a scene, she should have been prepared to live with the consequences.

Victor's treatment plan was already in place. He had no reason to keep Winona around anymore.

"I can give you one minute," Julian said flatly.

As soon as he finished, he glanced impatiently at his watch.

That gesture reminded Winona of something a coworker once said over lunch: her husband never argued with her, but rarely spoke to her at all, as if she were invisible.

That quiet disregard, that bone-deep coldness, was more excruciating than any shouting match.

Winona had chuckled bitterly at the time.

Wasn't her own marriage just the same?

Julian had never raised his voice at her, but he'd never really looked at her, either.

It was as if arguing with her would dirty his mouth, so he just didn't bother.

He was the very definition of silent cruelty.

One minute? Fine.

"Please tell your family to stop calling and harassing me," Winona said, keeping her voice steady.

"The Nicholsons haven't called you once in the past three days," Julian replied, not even trying to soften the blow.

The implication was clear: he thought Winona was using his family's calls as an excuse to see him.

Winona's voice remained even. "Tabitha called me four times last night."

Julian went silent for a moment, a flicker of discomfort passing over his face.

"I'll tell her not to call you again," he said, then turned away without another word.

Winona stood there, the night air biting through her thin dress, so cold she wanted to cry.

But she was too stubborn to let a single tear fall.

By the time she got home, it was nearly dawn.

Before heading to the gala, she'd called Mia to pick Zane up from school and watch him at home.

She assumed they'd both be asleep by now, but when she opened the door, she found Mia sitting alone on the sofa, waiting for her.

"Mia, why aren't you in bed?" Winona asked softly.

"Your grandmother tried calling you. When you didn't answer, she called me instead, and said you should bring your fancy husband and the kids around for her famous vegetable stew."

Winona was speechless.

"That poor old lady…" Mia sighed.

"We'll go on Saturday—you, me, and Zane," Winona said, her worry apparent.

She had no idea how to tell her grandmother that six years of swallowing her pride hadn't brought the happy ending the old woman dreamed of: Winona returning home, arm in arm with her wealthy husband and their children, finally giving her grandma a chance to hold her head high among the neighbors who'd always looked down on them.