Winning Back His Ex's Wife's Broken Heart

Richard's pov.

That kiss. I hadn't planned it. God, I didn't even think it would happen.

One minute, we were standing there, exchanging words that were half full of hope and half full of caution, and the next... Well, she kissed me back, didn't she?

It wasn't the kiss on our wedding day-that cold, brief peck I now regretted. This kiss, though, meant something.

I could feel it in the way she hesitated, the way her lips stayed on mine just a second longer than they should have.

But then she pulled away. And I could see it in her eyes-the confusion, the fear, and that ever-present wall she'd built between us. I'd done that.

I was the reason she couldn't trust me easily anymore.

"Richard, I can't do this. Not yet."

Those words echoed in my head the whole night. I watched her drive away, wanting to stop her, to say something, but I didn't.

She needed space, and for the first time in my life, I understood that giving her what she needed was more important than what I wanted.

But damn it, I wanted her back. I wanted her more than I'd ever allowed myself to admit before.

Seeing her every day, laughing with her over dinners, watching her light up when she talked about her business, her passions... It was like I was meeting the real Sarah for the first time. And now, I couldn't imagine going back to the way things were.

The next morning, I couldn't focus. My thoughts kept going back to that kiss, her words, the look in her eyes.

I wondered if she'd been thinking about it too or if she was just finding reasons to convince herself it didn't happen.

I glanced at my phone, half-expecting a message from her, but of course, nothing. She wasn't the type to reach out first, not after something like that.

I had to tread carefully-one wrong move, and I could lose this fragile connection we were building.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to see her. Not to push her, but to let her know I was still there.

So, I made up some excuses about needing to discuss a business proposal. It wasn't entirely a lie; I'd been working on something that could help her company expand internationally. But honestly? It was just a reason to see her.

When I got to her office, she looked up, surprised to see me, and for a split second, I thought I saw that same flicker of confusion cross her face.

"Richard," she said, her voice a bit tight, like she was expecting me to bring up the kiss.

"Hey, I wanted to run something by you," I said, keeping it casual. I handed her the proposal, watching as her fingers brushed against mine when she took it.

There it was again-something electric, something I couldn't ignore, no matter how hard I tried.

She glanced at the paperwork, but I could tell she wasn't really reading it. Her mind was somewhere else, probably still on last night.

"Looks good," she mumbled after a few minutes, her eyes not quite meeting mine.

"Sarah," I said softly, leaning in just enough so that my voice felt like it was only for her, "we don't have to talk about it right now, but... I just want you to know, I'm not going anywhere. I meant what I said last night. I'm here for whatever you need."

She stared at me, her expression unreadable for a moment, and then she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not that easy, Richard. You know that."

"I know. But I'm willing to be patient. I've waited this long, haven't I?"

She didn't answer, just looked down at the papers in front of her like they suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world. I let out a quiet sigh and stood up to leave, not wanting to push too hard.

Just as I reached the door, I heard her voice-soft, hesitant.

"Why now?"

I turned back, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you doing this now?" she asked, her eyes finally meeting mine, searching for something. "We've been divorced for more than a year, Richard. Why now?"

Her question knocked the wind out of me for a second. It was a fair question, one I hadn't fully answered even for myself.

Why now? Why did I wait so long? Maybe it was because I hadn't realized what I had until it was gone.

Maybe it was because I was an idiot back then, too blind to see what was right in front of me. But none of that felt like the right answer.

"Because I'm not the same person I was," I finally said, stepping back into the room. "Back then, I was... I don't know, lost. Angry, maybe. At myself, at everything."

I continued. "And I took it out on you. I couldn't see what I was doing, how much I was hurting you. But losing you... that was the wake-up call I needed. And now that I've got this second chance to even be in your life, I'm not wasting it." She blinked, clearly taken aback by my honesty. I wasn't sure if she believed me, but I needed her to understand that I wasn't just saying it. I meant every word.

"You don't get how hard this is for me, Richard," she said after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. "You hurt me. So much. And I don't know if I can...ever do this with you again."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I could see the pain in her eyes, and I hated myself for being the one who put it there.

But I also saw something else-something softer, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, we could rebuild.

"I'm not asking you to trust me all at once," I said, taking a step closer. "But let me prove it. I'll take things slow, whatever you need. Just give me a chance."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't ask me to leave either. That had to count for something.

Over the next few weeks, we fell into a rhythm. More casual dinners, more business meetings that turned into long conversations about life, about us.

Every time, I could feel her walls coming down just a little more. It wasn't fast, and it wasn't easy, but I didn't care. I wasn't in a rush.

Then one night, as we sat in a quiet corner of a restaurant, something shifted again. We'd been talking about old memories-both the good and the bad-and for the first time, she wasn't pulling back. There was a lightness to her laugh that hadn't been there before. It felt... easy.

I reached for her hand across the table, not thinking, just acting on instinct. And to my surprise, she didn't pull away.

"Richard," she said softly, looking down at our joined hands. "I'm still scared."

"I know," I replied, squeezing her hand gently. "But I'm not going anywhere, Sarah. I'm here. For as long as it takes."

And in that moment, I knew. We weren't just friends anymore. We were something else, something more. Something worth fighting for.