My ex-husband's nightmare - Chapter 88: Chapter 88
You are reading My ex-husband's nightmare, Chapter 88: Chapter 88. Read more chapters of My ex-husband's nightmare.
Mason
(The next day)
My phone was already ringing when I stepped out of the shower. I checked the screen and sighed loudly seeing it was my mother. Again. I let it ring once more before grabbing it and wiping my hand on the towel around my waist.
“Morning, Mom,” I greeted.
“Good morning, son, Julia’s at your place, right?” she asked, like it wasn’t even a question. I paused. “Yes.”
Much to my disappointment, when I got back home last night, Julia was waiting at my door. It was too late to take her home. Plus she didn't look like she wanted to go back home. So I let her stay.
“Good. You both need to talk about the honeymoon. The sooner you settle on a location, the better. The planner has been waiting for days." She complained.
"Just ask her what she wants, alright? Let her choose. I'll go with whatever she wants.” I said while rubbing the back of my neck, already tired.
“She’s a good girl, Mason. Make her feel like it’s real,” she added before hanging up like she always did, without waiting for anything I had to say.
I threw the phone on the bed and dragged the shirt over my head. I could hear her before I even stepped into the living room.
Julia was humming lightly, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, flipping through a glossy travel magazine with her phone beside her.
Her long hair was tied in a low ponytail, her face makeup free for once, and she wore one of my old shirts that barely touched her thighs. She looked comfortable, like she belonged there, like this was her home now and not just mine.
“Your mom called,” she said without looking up. “She said we should pick the honeymoon spot today.”
I nodded and sat on the far side of the couch, watching as she flipped the page and pointed at something.
“I was thinking Greece,” she said as her eyes sparkled. She turned the page toward me. “Or maybe Tuscany? You like wine, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer right away. I just stared at the picture, clear water, small white buildings with blue roofs, couples smiling on balconies.
“Whatever you choose,” I finally said, sounding neutral. Julia turned to me then, her brows knitting a little. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” She smiled awkwardly, but I could tell she noticed how far my mind was.
I was still thinking about last night. About Lydia. About the way she didn’t even try to meet my eyes. The way Marcus had leaned toward her, whispered something that made her laugh, and how her laugh felt like a small knife digging under my ribs.
Julia folded the magazine and leaned her head on the arm of the couch, letting out a light sigh. “I think I have a headache,” she mumbled, rubbing her temple.
I turned to her quickly, standing. “Do you want something?”
“Water,” she whispered, eyes shut now.
I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, filled it, and brought it to her. She opened her eyes slightly and took it, her fingers brushing mine. She didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t ask questions.
I sat beside her again, this time a little closer. She rested her hand on her stomach without thinking, and I noticed it but didn’t speak about it.
Instead, I stared straight ahead, wondering how many more moments like this I’d have to live through, half here, half somewhere else, wishing the right person was the one beside me.
Julia was still holding the empty glass in her lap, tracing the rim with her finger, when she looked up and asked, “Are you going to the office today?” Her voice was lazy, like she didn’t really want an answer.
“Yeah,” I said, standing and adjusting the cuffs of my shirt.
She opened her mouth like she had something more to say, but I didn’t wait. I grabbed my phone and keys from the table and headed out, not wanting to have any more dialogue with her.
I barely got halfway down the stairs before my phone buzzed again. It was Mom. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew she’d just keep calling.
“Where are you going?” she asked, already annoyed.
“To work,” I said, unlocking the car.
“No. Not today. Clear your schedule. Today’s important,” she said, like she owned every hour of my life. “I have things to do.”
“No, you don’t. Today, you’re going with Julia to pick her wedding dress. And the engagement outfit too. The designer’s expecting you two in less than two hours,” she said sharply.
I rested my head against the car for a moment, closing my eyes. “Mom—”
“Mason, please,” Julia’s voice came through behind me. She had followed me out barefoot, wearing only that same oversized shirt, her hair still a little messy, one hand wrapped over her stomach again.
“We won’t take long. I’d feel better if you were there… for the baby.” I swallowed hard and nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else.
The drive to the designer’s studio was quiet. Julia kept checking her phone and humming to the music playing softly from the speakers.
She had changed into a soft cream dress and flat sandals, her makeup light, and her hands rested over her stomach most of the ride, like she was trying to make sure the baby didn’t feel ignored.
When we got there, the place was already set up with white and gold curtains hanging by the windows and a long mirror stretching across one wall. Three dresses were already on display, and a woman in a black blouse walked toward us, smiling too widely.
Julia smiled back and took my hand like we were any normal couple, and I let her. She started talking about fabric and lace, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar silhouette.
A woman is flipping through a rack of dresses. Her back was to me, her shoulders straight, her hair tied up in a loose bun that looked exactly like Lydia’s used to be on days she didn’t try too hard. Something about the way she tilted her head as she looked at the dresses made my brows form into a knot.
I kept staring at the woman across the room. The more I stared, the more she looked too much like Lydia for me to just ignore.
Her posture, her hair, even the way she stood, all made something in me more and more sure it was her. I walked towards her without thinking, just to be sure, just to see her face and know.
“Mason,” Julia’s voice came from behind, her fingers curling gently around my wrist. “Come with me. I need help with this dress.”
I looked at her, then at the woman again, but she was moving, turning slightly, and I couldn’t tell if it was her face or just my head messing with me.
“Please?” Julia pleaded.
I followed her, even though I didn’t want to, and she led me behind the curtain where she had changed into a white gown with tiny stones near the sleeves.
The dress clung to her back but hung open at the top, where the zip was stuck halfway. She faced the mirror and turned a little, trying to hold the fabric in place.
“I can’t zip it alone,” she mumbled,
I stepped behind her, one hand holding the fabric together, the other pulling the zip slowly, but the fabric was tight and the zip refused to go up smoothly. I tugged a little harder.
Then the zip popped, and the side ripped
“Mason-” Julia gasped, her hand flying to cover the gap as she spun around to look at me,
“I didn’t mean to,” I said quickly, feeling slightly irritated. “It’s not my fault they gave you a dress two sizes too small.”
She didn’t say anything at first, just held the torn fabric to her chest like it would fall off if she moved.
“I hit my leg earlier on a chair,” I muttered, already stepping away. “This day is just... bad.”
She tried to stop me by reaching for my hand, but I pulled away before she could. “Mason, wait—”
“No,” I snapped, my voice louder than I expected. “I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore today.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. I walked out of the fitting area, my head pounding again, my chest still too full, my mind only thinking of one thing.
I needed to see her. Needed to know if I was losing my mind or if Lydia was really here.
I walked through the boutique fast, scanning every aisle, every mirror, every passing face.
Then I saw her.
Lydia.
I unintentionally smiled upon seeing her face. It's so mesmerising how just one look at that face could fix all the anger and discomfort building up in me.
With a wider smile, I approached her, but just before I could reach her, I saw a hand hold hers as he pulled her closer to him.
Marcus.
(The next day)
My phone was already ringing when I stepped out of the shower. I checked the screen and sighed loudly seeing it was my mother. Again. I let it ring once more before grabbing it and wiping my hand on the towel around my waist.
“Morning, Mom,” I greeted.
“Good morning, son, Julia’s at your place, right?” she asked, like it wasn’t even a question. I paused. “Yes.”
Much to my disappointment, when I got back home last night, Julia was waiting at my door. It was too late to take her home. Plus she didn't look like she wanted to go back home. So I let her stay.
“Good. You both need to talk about the honeymoon. The sooner you settle on a location, the better. The planner has been waiting for days." She complained.
"Just ask her what she wants, alright? Let her choose. I'll go with whatever she wants.” I said while rubbing the back of my neck, already tired.
“She’s a good girl, Mason. Make her feel like it’s real,” she added before hanging up like she always did, without waiting for anything I had to say.
I threw the phone on the bed and dragged the shirt over my head. I could hear her before I even stepped into the living room.
Julia was humming lightly, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, flipping through a glossy travel magazine with her phone beside her.
Her long hair was tied in a low ponytail, her face makeup free for once, and she wore one of my old shirts that barely touched her thighs. She looked comfortable, like she belonged there, like this was her home now and not just mine.
“Your mom called,” she said without looking up. “She said we should pick the honeymoon spot today.”
I nodded and sat on the far side of the couch, watching as she flipped the page and pointed at something.
“I was thinking Greece,” she said as her eyes sparkled. She turned the page toward me. “Or maybe Tuscany? You like wine, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer right away. I just stared at the picture, clear water, small white buildings with blue roofs, couples smiling on balconies.
“Whatever you choose,” I finally said, sounding neutral. Julia turned to me then, her brows knitting a little. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” She smiled awkwardly, but I could tell she noticed how far my mind was.
I was still thinking about last night. About Lydia. About the way she didn’t even try to meet my eyes. The way Marcus had leaned toward her, whispered something that made her laugh, and how her laugh felt like a small knife digging under my ribs.
Julia folded the magazine and leaned her head on the arm of the couch, letting out a light sigh. “I think I have a headache,” she mumbled, rubbing her temple.
I turned to her quickly, standing. “Do you want something?”
“Water,” she whispered, eyes shut now.
I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, filled it, and brought it to her. She opened her eyes slightly and took it, her fingers brushing mine. She didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t ask questions.
I sat beside her again, this time a little closer. She rested her hand on her stomach without thinking, and I noticed it but didn’t speak about it.
Instead, I stared straight ahead, wondering how many more moments like this I’d have to live through, half here, half somewhere else, wishing the right person was the one beside me.
Julia was still holding the empty glass in her lap, tracing the rim with her finger, when she looked up and asked, “Are you going to the office today?” Her voice was lazy, like she didn’t really want an answer.
“Yeah,” I said, standing and adjusting the cuffs of my shirt.
She opened her mouth like she had something more to say, but I didn’t wait. I grabbed my phone and keys from the table and headed out, not wanting to have any more dialogue with her.
I barely got halfway down the stairs before my phone buzzed again. It was Mom. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew she’d just keep calling.
“Where are you going?” she asked, already annoyed.
“To work,” I said, unlocking the car.
“No. Not today. Clear your schedule. Today’s important,” she said, like she owned every hour of my life. “I have things to do.”
“No, you don’t. Today, you’re going with Julia to pick her wedding dress. And the engagement outfit too. The designer’s expecting you two in less than two hours,” she said sharply.
I rested my head against the car for a moment, closing my eyes. “Mom—”
“Mason, please,” Julia’s voice came through behind me. She had followed me out barefoot, wearing only that same oversized shirt, her hair still a little messy, one hand wrapped over her stomach again.
“We won’t take long. I’d feel better if you were there… for the baby.” I swallowed hard and nodded, not trusting myself to say anything else.
The drive to the designer’s studio was quiet. Julia kept checking her phone and humming to the music playing softly from the speakers.
She had changed into a soft cream dress and flat sandals, her makeup light, and her hands rested over her stomach most of the ride, like she was trying to make sure the baby didn’t feel ignored.
When we got there, the place was already set up with white and gold curtains hanging by the windows and a long mirror stretching across one wall. Three dresses were already on display, and a woman in a black blouse walked toward us, smiling too widely.
Julia smiled back and took my hand like we were any normal couple, and I let her. She started talking about fabric and lace, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar silhouette.
A woman is flipping through a rack of dresses. Her back was to me, her shoulders straight, her hair tied up in a loose bun that looked exactly like Lydia’s used to be on days she didn’t try too hard. Something about the way she tilted her head as she looked at the dresses made my brows form into a knot.
I kept staring at the woman across the room. The more I stared, the more she looked too much like Lydia for me to just ignore.
Her posture, her hair, even the way she stood, all made something in me more and more sure it was her. I walked towards her without thinking, just to be sure, just to see her face and know.
“Mason,” Julia’s voice came from behind, her fingers curling gently around my wrist. “Come with me. I need help with this dress.”
I looked at her, then at the woman again, but she was moving, turning slightly, and I couldn’t tell if it was her face or just my head messing with me.
“Please?” Julia pleaded.
I followed her, even though I didn’t want to, and she led me behind the curtain where she had changed into a white gown with tiny stones near the sleeves.
The dress clung to her back but hung open at the top, where the zip was stuck halfway. She faced the mirror and turned a little, trying to hold the fabric in place.
“I can’t zip it alone,” she mumbled,
I stepped behind her, one hand holding the fabric together, the other pulling the zip slowly, but the fabric was tight and the zip refused to go up smoothly. I tugged a little harder.
Then the zip popped, and the side ripped
“Mason-” Julia gasped, her hand flying to cover the gap as she spun around to look at me,
“I didn’t mean to,” I said quickly, feeling slightly irritated. “It’s not my fault they gave you a dress two sizes too small.”
She didn’t say anything at first, just held the torn fabric to her chest like it would fall off if she moved.
“I hit my leg earlier on a chair,” I muttered, already stepping away. “This day is just... bad.”
She tried to stop me by reaching for my hand, but I pulled away before she could. “Mason, wait—”
“No,” I snapped, my voice louder than I expected. “I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore today.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. I walked out of the fitting area, my head pounding again, my chest still too full, my mind only thinking of one thing.
I needed to see her. Needed to know if I was losing my mind or if Lydia was really here.
I walked through the boutique fast, scanning every aisle, every mirror, every passing face.
Then I saw her.
Lydia.
I unintentionally smiled upon seeing her face. It's so mesmerising how just one look at that face could fix all the anger and discomfort building up in me.
With a wider smile, I approached her, but just before I could reach her, I saw a hand hold hers as he pulled her closer to him.
Marcus.
End of My ex-husband's nightmare Chapter 88. Continue reading Chapter 89 or return to My ex-husband's nightmare book page.