My ex-husband's nightmare - Chapter 43: Chapter 43

Mason
I can't believe Lydia got the contract. True, she had a perfect vantage since she was new and had been able to keep a reputation.
I grind my molar, my car careening to the left as I take a sharp turn.
Pressing hard on the accelerator, I drove further and further into the city. This was driving me insane.
My phone rang, but I didn't reach for it.
This deal meant a lot.
I made up with Julia just for this deal, hoping it wouldn't fall through since her father was there, but it did.
I drove to my penthouse. Stopping The car in the underground parking lot, I stepped out, slamming the door behind me.
The underground parking lot is lightened by dim light. There was an aisle with cars scattered around both sides.
The glass door slid when I got closer, and I stepped in. Stopping in front of the elevator, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and opened a news app.
Lydia's photo was everywhere; this was the most trending news in the business world right now. I stepped into the elevator, punching the number of my floor before returning my gaze to my screen.
Now, staring at her photo and trailing the smile on her face with my eyes, I felt a wave of calmness wash through me.
A sense of pride began to form in me. This is my woman.
Okay, maybe ‘was’ would be the correct term, but that doesn't change a thing, and who said she wouldn't be my woman or she isn't my woman?
I felt the need to claim her as mine.
I kicked myself at the thought that I was feeling proud of a rival's achievement.
But you can't help it when the rival is your ex-wife.
I found myself thinking that divorcing her was a mistake. I have always regretted it, but I never thought about it deeply, at least not like I was doing now.
And that made me angry.
The elevator dinged.
I walked out of the elevator.
I walked into my room and took off my jacket. I flung it to the side. I walked to the drawer and pulled it open, bringing out a bottle of vodka; opening another drawer, I picked a glass.
The drink gurgled as I poured it into the glass, raising it up to my lips; I downed the content in one go.
I poured another and did the same.
I closed my eyes after placing the glass on the table. I ran my hand through my hair.
How did this happen? How did I go from being the top man to having a rival?
My phone on the top of the drawer vibrated, and David's name was displayed on the screen.
I inhaled sharply, placing my conflicted emotions in check.
I picked up the phone.
“I thought you'd never pick up.” He said.
“Cut to the chase, David.” My voice was cold, I know that but I couldn't help it.
“Chill man, I wasn't the one who hit the deal. Your ex-wife was,” he said, chuckling at the other end of the line.
I clenched and unclenched my hands, “David, I don't have time for jokes. If you don't want to speak, I'm ending the call.”
“Is that the tone you use with a friend you haven't seen or heard from in a long time? He asked.
I massaged my temples.
I am not really in a mood for games, but the problem is that David has never been one to read emotions or anything.
But that doesn't change the fact that this was the first time we were speaking in months. He has been buried in work, and so was I.
Noticing that I didn't say anything, “How've you been, man? I'm back in the city. Can we meet up?”
“Okay,” was my only reply.
I could use some time with friends.
“I'll send you the address.” He spoke.
The phone beeped. I flung it on the bed; it bounced before stopping. I walked into the bathroom and stood under the shower, allowing the water to hit my skin and cool me.
Beads of water rolled down my skin as I emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped around my waist.
I changed into something comfortable before stepping out of the room.
When I got to the sitting room, I was surprised to see Julia. She had just stepped into the room.
I paused on my track, “what are you doing here?” The words were sharp, and I saw her eyes twisted.
How did she get the passcode to the penthouse? I guessed she must have seen it the other day when I punched it in.
“How are you feeling? I heard the news,” she covered the space between us and pulled me into an embrace.
I stiffened for a while, not expecting it.
When we pulled away, she stared at me, “I'm sorry you didn't get the contract.” She held both of my arms.
“What are you sorry about? It's not like you caused it,” I freed myself from her hold.
I made a mental note to change the passcode to the penthouse.
“Seems you were just going out.”
“Yes,” I said
“Why are you here?” I asked.
She shifted from one foot to the other, “Well, Mom said to come to check in on you since you've been ignoring the calls. She wants to have dinner with us.”
I began walking to the door, “Tell her some other time; I've got plans.” I said.
“Please, can't you join us!” She pleaded.
I bit the inside of my mouth. I don't want to, “this is the first dinner we'll be having together in a while. I don't want you to miss it.” Her voice was low and soft, sparking something within me.
It's not as though I didn't want to eat with her; she isn't the problem. The problem was my mom.
She would probably remind me that this happened because I had refused to reconcile with Julia on time, and I wasn't in for such lectures.
I stopped a few feet away from the door and turned to her. “Maybe some other time, Julia,” I said. “I want my own time. I want to be alone tonight.” I added.
“Alright.” She paused and continued, “I know you must be in a very sour mood.” She began, “Wanting your own time is normal.”
This was her problem; she was always understanding.