The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 110: The end we never wrote

The park was quiet just the hush of wind through trees and the crunch of late autumn leaves beneath her boots.

Mara stood near the fountain, coat wrapped tight around her, scarf loose around her neck. Her fingers played with the edge of it, trying to calm the storm inside her.

She heard him before she saw him. Footsteps. Familiar.

Ethan.

He walked toward her slowly, almost cautiously, like he was afraid she might vanish if he moved too fast. His eyes were heavy—not from lack of sleep, but from the weight of everything unsaid between them.

He stopped a few feet away. Close enough to feel, far enough not to press.

"Surprise to see you here," he said, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, same," Stef replied honestly.

"I wasn’t sure I deserved it."

Silence.

Then she looked up at him and he looked wrecked. His eyes were glassy, rimmed red. His shoulders were slumped in that way that only comes after you’ve carried regret for too long.

"I remember now," he said quietly. "Everything."

Her breath caught. She didn’t speak, so he went on.

"You. Us. The way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear when you were nervous. The way you always whispered ’I love you’ twice, like once wasn’t enough. I remember your smile when you saw the tower for the first time. I remember your tears the night you saw me and Maria-Isabel. I remember... how it felt to be yours."

Mara blinked, tears already building like a tide behind her lashes.

"I remember the night I promised you forever," he said. "And I remember the day I broke it."

She closed her eyes, just for a second. Because hearing him say it made it real in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

"I’m sorry, Mara. For forgetting. For betraying. For leaving you to grieve alone while I was busy falling into a version of myself I don’t even recognize anymore."

She looked at him then, really looked. And all she saw was the man she fell in love with just calmer, sadder, wiser. And maybe too late.

"I spent weeks wondering what I did wrong," she whispered. "Trying to figure out if I wasn’t enough. If maybe I loved too hard. Or not hard enough. But it wasn’t me, was it?"

He shook his head. "No. It was never you."

She took a step back, breathing in shaky.

"I’m not angry anymore," she said. "Just tired. Of carrying the what-ifs. Of trying to hold onto a version of you that doesn’t exist anymore."

He nodded. "I brought the papers."

She blinked. "You... what?"

"The divorce," Ethan said. "You don’t owe me anything. Not a second chance. Not closure. Not even this conversation. But I wanted to face you and say it with my whole chest I’m sorry. And I’m letting you go."

Tears streamed down her face now, but not the screaming kind. The quiet kind. The kind that slips down when you’re finally letting go.

"I loved you," she said.

"I still love you," he whispered, breaking.

But neither of them moved. Because sometimes love doesn’t mean staying. Sometimes it means knowing when to step away.

"I’m gonna do better," he said. "Not for you. Not to win you back. Just... because I want to be someone my kids can be proud of. Someone I can be proud of."

She gave a soft nod, clutching the envelope with the papers.

"Goodbye, Ethan," she whispered.

He took one last look at her at everything they were and everything they could never be again and nodded.

"Goodbye, Mara."

As he walked away, the wind picked up. Leaves danced around her feet. And somewhere in the ache of her chest, Mara realized she could finally breathe again.

Because sometimes the most painful endings...are also the ones that set us free.

__

It was late, Rafael called to check on Mara but he ended up picking her up from the park.

The sky outside was bruised with dusk, that lonely kind of blue that stretched on forever. The suite was quiet except for the hum of the heater and the faint clink of ice in Rafael’s glass.

Mara stood by the window, arms crossed, her reflection half-lit in the glass. She hadn’t said a word since they returned. Not about Ethan. Not about the way her whole world had cracked open and spilled onto the floor.

Rafael didn’t push. He just sat on the couch, jacket tossed aside, sleeves rolled up, watching her like a man trying to figure out how to touch lightning without getting burned.

"Do you want tea?" he finally asked, his voice soft.

She shook her head.

More silence.

And then like the universe gave up on her pretending she just broke.

"I can’t do this," she whispered.

Rafael looked up, instantly alert.

Mara turned around slowly, eyes glassy, hands trembling at her sides. "I can’t keep pretending I’m fine. That I’m strong. Meeting Ethan wasn’t the easiest part of my day."

Her voice cracked on that last word.

Rafael stood but didn’t move toward her yet.

"I don’t know how to be okay anymore, Rafael," she said, her voice shattering. "I’m tired. I’m so tired of being the brave one. The one who saves herself. The one who keeps everyone together."

Her knees buckled a little, and that’s when he moved quick, steady, arms around her like gravity itself.

She collapsed into him.

Not gently. Not gracefully. Like a storm collapsing into the sea. Ugly sobs. Shoulders shaking. Her face was buried in his chest, as he held her like he’d never let her go.

"You don’t have to be brave right now," he whispered into her hair. "You don’t have to be anything."

"But I always am," she sobbed. "Even when Ethan betrayed and forgot me. Even when Philip took me. Even when I thought I was gonna die I still smiled. I still joked. I still held on."

"I know," he said. "I saw it. I see you."

"And I hate that I still love him," she confessed, voice small. "I hate that I wish it could’ve worked. I hate that part of me still hopes."

Rafael didn’t flinch. He didn’t make it about himself. He just kissed the side of her head and whispered, "That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you human."

They stood there for what felt like hours. Her brokenness seeped into his silence. His calm wrapped around her like a promise.

Eventually, her sobs quieted, but she didn’t pull away.

"Do you think I’ll ever feel whole again?" she asked.

He looked down at her and smiled not the kind of smile that fixes things. The kind that says I’ll wait with you in the dark.

"I don’t know," he said. "But until you do... I’ll be here. Holding the pieces."

The hotel suite was dim now, only the warm glow of a lamp flickering in the corner. Mara had stopped crying hours ago. Her eyes were swollen, but calm. She was curled on the couch, knees tucked under her, wearing one of Rafael’s oversized hoodies it had been left slung over the back of the chair and smelled like cedar and something deeply comforting. Mara called Steve and told him she was with Rafael and her brother only said okay, she wasn’t so much surprised.

Rafael returned from the kitchenette with a mug in each hand.

"Hot chocolate," he said with a grin. "With those tiny marshmallows, you pretend you don’t like."

She raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "I never said I didn’t like them."

"You rolled your eyes."

"I roll my eyes at everything."

He chuckled and handed her the mug, then sat beside her, legs stretched out. For a moment they just sipped in silence.

Then Mara looked at him, a soft curious smile tugging at her lips. "You always do this."

"Do what?"

"This," she gestured between them, "this quiet thing. Like... knowing when I need a loud laugh and when I just need a warm mug and a hoodie three sizes too big."

Rafael looked down at his cup, suddenly a little shy. "Well... when you’re around someone long enough, you start to learn their storms. I just try to be the umbrella."

She snorted, then laughed like a little ripple of sunlight.

"I’m sorry, that was cheesy, wasn’t it?"

"Cheesy?" she said, giggling. "You just compared yourself to an umbrella."

"I stand by it. Protective. Flexible. Slightly annoying when inverted by a strong wind."

She laughed harder now, covering her face.

He watched her, eyes soft. "There it is."

"What?"

"Your laugh. I missed it."

Mara stilled, her smile lingering but her voice quiet. "I didn’t think I’d ever really laugh again."

"You did," he said, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "You’re still here."

For a second, the space between them shimmered with something... unspoken.

She looked at him, and something in her eyes said thank you without saying it. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers ghosting against her cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, "you don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to be okay for me."

"I know," she said. "But right now... I think I am okay. At least in this moment."

"Then let’s stay in this moment," he said. "As long as you need."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, warm and safe.

Outside, the world was still in chaos. But here, in the embrace of soft lamplight and hot chocolate, Mara wasn’t surviving. She was simply living one stolen breath at a time