Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart by Hayley

Sarah pov.

I woke up feeling like I was floating on air. Memories of last night flooded back-the soft glow of fairy lights, Richard's face as he knelt before me, the ring that sparkled on my finger. I glanced at my hand, letting the sunlight catch the diamond, and smiled. It still felt surreal.

The baby stirred, a gentle nudge remindingshe was there. "Good morning, little one," I murmured, rubbing my belly. She responded with another kick, and my heart swelled. Today was going to be beautiful, filled with friends and laughter at the baby shower.

But as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe, a faint unease settled in the back of my mind. Something I couldn't quite place.

When I reached the kitchen, the smell of coffee and the sound of laughter greeted me. Zoe was sitting at the counter, holding a steaming mug, while Martins leaned back in his chair, mid-joke. "Ah, our glowing bride-to-be!" Martins said with exaggerated flair, waving his hands like a magician.

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "Good morning to you too, king." Zoe slid a mug of chai toward me, her face bright with excitement. "Here. Decaf, obviously. You're welcome." "Thanks," I said, sipping the warm drink.

Richard was standing by the window, his back to us, phone pressed to his ear. He was speaking in hushed tones, his shoulders tense. When he turned and saw me, his expression softened, but only slightly. "You okay?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said quickly, tucking the phone away. "Just handling swork stuff. Nothing important." "Richard," I started, but Zoe cutoff, grabbing my arm.

"Don't let him bore you with his CEO stress," she said, pullingtoward the living room. "Let's talk about the shower! I need your opinion on balloon colors." Martins snorted. "Since when does Sarah care about balloon colors? She's just going to smile and nod, like always." I rolled my eyes. "And you're going to keep making jokes until Zoe makes you blow them all up, aren't you?" The banter between them was enough to distractfor a while, and I let myself sink into the excitement of the day. But as the morning wore on, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off.

By early afternoon, I was upstairs getting ready. The lavender dress I'd picked out felt perfect-soft, flowing, and comfortable over my bump.

As I smoothed the fabric, I caught sight of Richard through the window. He was outside, speaking to two security guards, his face tight with worry.

Something was definitely wrong.

When he cback inside, I met him in the hallway. "Richard," I said, folding my arms. "What's going on?" He gavea quick smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Nothing, love. Just making sure everything's set for the party." I glanced toward the window. "Since when do we need this much security for a baby shower?" He hesitated. "I just want to make sure it's private. You know how these things can get." I frowned but let it go. Richard always had a protective streak, and I figured it wasn't worth arguing over.

*** Zoe was withas I finished getting ready. She sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through her phone while I adjusted the ribbon in my hair. "You're glowing," she said, grinning.

I smiled back. "It's probably just the highlighter." She laughed, then looked at her phone and groaned. "Ugh, I have to take this. Be right back. Don't go anywhere." I waved her off, watching as she disappeared down the hallway. Alone now, I stood by the mirror, adjusting the bow one last time.

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of distant chatter and music filtering up from downstairs. Then I heard it.

A faint rustling outside the window.

I turned, peering through the curtains, but saw nothing. Still, the sound lingered in my ears, setting my nerves on edge.

"Probably just the staff," I muttered, trying to shake the unease.

But as I moved toward the door, a shadow flickered across the hallway. I froze, my heart hammering.

"Zoe?" I called out, my voice wavering.

No answer.

I opened the door slowly, peering into the hallway. It was empty. Shaking my head, I stepped back into the room and closed the door. Then I saw her.

She was standing in the corner of the room, half-hidden in the shadows. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes wrinkled and dirty. Her eyes-wild, glassy, and locked on me. "Isabelle," I whispered, my throat tightening.

She stepped forward, her movements jerky and unsteady. "You think you've won," she said, her voice low and trembling.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You took everything from me," she hissed, her expression twisting with rage. "You stole him from me!"

I took a step back, my hands instinctively cradling my belly.

"Isabelle, listen to me. Whatever you think is happening, it's not true.

Richard was never yours." "Liar!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls. My heart raced as she lunged toward me, her hands clenched into fists. I backed away, my mind racing for a way out.

"You don't deserve him," she spat, her eyes flicking to the ring on my finger. "You don't deserve any of this!" "Isabelle, please," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "Think about what you're doing. You need help." She laughed-a cold, bitter sound. "Help? You think I need help?"

She took another step forward, and I bolted for the door. But she was om faster. Her hands grabbed my Her hands shoulders, and I stumbled, my back hitting the wall. "Get away from me!" I shouted, but she only laughed harder.

I twisted out of her grip and ran toward the staircase. She followed, her footsteps heavy and unsteady behind me.

"Stop running!" she screamed.

I reached the top of the stairs and turned to face her. Her face was contorted with fury, her eyes wild and unseeing. "Isabelle, don't," I said, my voice shaking.

But she didn't stop. She lunged forward, shovingwith all her weight.

The world tilted, and I felt myself falling. My body hit the steps with a sickening thud, pain exploding throughas I rolled down the staircase.

When I landed at the bottom, my vision blurred, and darkness crept in at the edges. My hands instinctively went to my belly, and I whispered, "My baby. My baby." Then everything went black.

m The silence was heavy, pressing down onlike a weight. Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard voices-shouting, frantic-but they were muffled, as if underwater. And then there was nothing.