CEO Ex-Husband, Don't Bother Me

Chapter 227 - 177: Reconciled as Before

Willow Summers rolled her eyes at him. Walter Jennings leaned in close. "Well, then, why don’t you try and guess why I’m angry right now?"

"You’re being ridiculous!"

Writer Summers didn’t have much patience for her own man, especially when he was being so nonsensical.

Walter, however, looked completely serious. "From now on, I’m giving you the silent treatment, too. There’s something that’s been bothering me that I’ve been too embarrassed to tell you. If you can guess what it is and give me a proper explanation, we’ll end the silent treatment!"

She understood what was on other men’s minds so clearly, so how could she not understand him? He went crazy every time she prioritized her writing over him. He’d held back from telling her out of consideration, but now he was taking this chance to make her realize just how much that wounded his pride! Julian Donovan was lucky; Naomi Shaw put him first. All she did this time was fail to consult him. But Walter Jennings? He ranked lower in importance than some sappy romance novel. Wasn’t that an even greater blow to one’s pride?

Willow Summers was about to go mad with frustration. She slammed her hand on the table, shot to her feet, and roared, "Walter Jennings!"

***

*A heart free from turmoil, a spirit unbound by passion. Dwell not on the past, fear not the future.*

***

That night, the two children were asleep, but Julian Donovan still hadn’t returned. Naomi Shaw waited for him in the bedroom, fraught with anxiety. Several times, she was so drowsy she nearly dozed off, only to run to the bathroom and splash her face with water, forcing herself awake.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but just as she was about to drift into a dream, the door opened. She jolted awake and quickly turned on the bedside lamp, only to see him stumble in, swaying. He seemed to have had a lot to drink.

She threw back the covers, got out of bed, and rushed over to support him. "You’ve been drinking?"

Julian Donovan’s gaze fell on the alluring figure beneath her gossamer nightgown, its neckline gaping open. His eyes darkened, and he pushed her away before walking into the bathroom. He had to resist. The old saying about making up in bed after a fight usually meant that a couple would forget their argument after a round of intimacy, or that the matter would be resolved with a few sweet words during the act.

He refused to be so easily placated. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life walking on eggshells.

Hearing the sound of rushing water from the bathroom, Naomi Shaw looked down at her nightgown. Dejected, she climbed back into bed and buried her face in the covers in frustration. She had finally worked up the courage to change into her most daring piece of lingerie, but it seemed he hadn’t reacted at all.

A while later, the water in the bathroom stopped. She heard him come out and sat up, only to see him grabbing his own clothes, ready to leave. "Where are you going?" she asked, her heart sinking.

"The guest room!"

He tossed the two words at her, cold and indifferent, and started for the door. She panicked completely. Forgetting all about her appearance, she scrambled out of bed and ran toward him. In her haste, she accidentally kicked a small stool, her toe throbbing with pain. But she couldn’t care about that now. She ran and threw herself into his arms, holding him tight. "Don’t go!"

The impact made his chest ache, and it was as if he had been transported back to the first time they met. She, dressed in daffodil yellow, had recklessly crashed into his arms just like this, making his chest hurt then, too. He’d wondered at the time how such a slender person could hit him with enough force to cause pain.

Thinking about it now, was it because she was the rib he was fated to be missing? Had she crashed into his arms only to embed herself in his body, making his life whole?

As he thought this, his tense body couldn’t help but relax. He sighed softly and raised his arms to gently wrap them around her. But Naomi, lost in her anxiety, didn’t notice the change in him. She just clung to him tightly, rushing to say what she needed to. "I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have agreed to the police’s request behind your back. I’ll never do it again. From now on, I’ll tell you everything and always ask for your opinion..."

He thought he could give her the silent treatment for days, but with just a few words from her, all his anger dissipated. He gently lifted her small head from his chest and saw that her eyes were red and she was on the verge of tears. Still, he put on a stern face to scold her. "You did something so dangerous on your own. If anything had happened to you, what would the kids and I have done? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Do you know..."

He carefully started to get up, intending to go wash in the bathroom, but she suddenly clung to him again as if afraid he would leave. "Don’t go!"

He gave a helpless smile, hugged her again, and coaxed her in a low voice, "I’m not leaving. I just need to take a shower!"

"No shower. Lie here with me!"

She nuzzled bossily into his chest, her slender arms wrapping around him even tighter. He chuckled softly, indulging this rare display of possessiveness.

After a moment of silence, she suddenly asked, "Julian, will you... stop loving me because of what happened?"

Naomi knew it was a silly question, but she couldn’t help the unease in her heart. His love had always felt like such a luxury to her. And after he had been so cold and said such harsh things about never forgiving her, she was terrified that this one decision of hers would cause her to lose him completely.

As soon as she asked, her heart clenched. She waited anxiously for his answer, but he remained stubbornly silent, making her grow even more panicked and uneasy.

After a long pause, he suddenly let out a long sigh. Startled, she scrambled up off him. Her dark eyes stared at him, filled with anxiety. That sigh... what did it mean?

All her thoughts were laid bare in those eyes, and of course, Julian Donovan saw right through her. He smiled faintly and pulled her back into his embrace, stroking her soft hair as he said gently, "I’m sighing because... you’re nothing like the woman I imagined I’d love, so how did I end up falling for you?"

Naomi Shaw’s mind went completely blank. He had said he loved her before. During the time he was trying to win her back, he had whispered all sorts of sweet nothings, but not a single one had moved her more than this.

Overcome with joy, she began to cry. At a loss for words, she just buried herself in his chest and let the tears flow.

Julian Donovan pulled her away so they were lying face-to-face on the bed. He raised a hand to her tear-streaked face. "Silly girl. How could my love for you change over something like this?"

She cried even harder. "You said... you said you’d never forgive me. I thought... *sob*..."

Julian wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. "I love you, and I’ll spend a lifetime proving it. But you did something that dangerous behind my back... I was afraid I wouldn’t even get the chance to prove how I feel!"

Sobbing, she raised a hand to playfully beat his chest, pouting bossily. "Don’t you ever mention this again!" She didn’t want to be reminded of it. After hearing what he’d just said, the memory of it felt cruel to him, and it made her own heart ache.

Julian caught her small fist, then flipped over, pinning her beneath him. "Getting a temper after just a few days apart, are we? Can’t even take a little criticism! Let’s see how I deal with you!"

With a smile, he lowered his head to find her lips, capturing them and refusing to let go, as if he wanted to swallow them whole. She couldn’t withstand his assault, letting out soft moans as she arched her body to meet his, their lips and tongues tangling, skin meeting skin.

***

At the old, stately Donovan Residence, Sean Donovan stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, a wine glass in hand, sipping as he stared out into the pitch-black night. One of his personal bodyguards rushed in frantically. "Boss, bad news! The shipment we sent out this morning in the vegetable truck... it’s... it’s been found by the police!"

"What?"

Sean Donovan, a man who rarely showed emotion, whipped around to face the bodyguard. "Why would the police randomly search a vegetable truck?"

Wealthy and powerful families had always had produce delivered directly to their homes through the city’s "Vegetable Basket" program. The program’s delivery trucks were government-affiliated and rarely inspected, a resource he had cleverly exploited. He had replaced all the delivery drivers in the area with his own men, who would hide the goods in the baskets and transport them while making their daily rounds. While the secret passage to the pier was safe, he had always been cautious, splitting his shipments between the two channels. That way, if one was discovered, he wouldn’t lose his entire stock.