Reclaimed By My Ex-husband
Chapter 39: You lost her.

Chapter 39: You lost her.

The receptionist gave Bree a polite smile. "You can head up. His office is on the top floor."

Bree blinked, caught off guard. She had he would refuse to see her and was ready to throw a full-blown scene in the lobby. She had even rehearsed a few dramatic lines in her head. But just like that, he said yes.

’Okay, let’s talk,’ she thought, lips tightening. She tilted her chin high and marched toward the elevator.

When the elevator chimed on the top floor, she stepped out. The hallway was sleek, silent, and intimidating. She didn’t break stride as she reached his office and pushed the door open without knocking.

The room was cold, both in temperature and in tone. The crisp scent of citrus hung in the air. Bree stopped just inside the doorway, momentarily thrown by the man who sat behind the massive desk.

Nathaniel looked up, eyes locked on her. His face was impossibly composed—jaw sharp, expression unreadable, and eyes dark and assessing. There was no warmth in them.

He looked like a man carved from stone.

’Don’t let him rattle you,’ she told herself. ’You are here for Zara.’

Bree swallowed her unease and took a bold step forward.

"Why did you lock Zara up?" she demanded. "Let her go—or I swear I’ll call the police."

Nathaniel didn’t even blink. "Go ahead," he challenged.

"You can’t treat her like this," she snapped. "She is not a criminal. You are violating her rights. This is illegal—what you are doing is insane."

"Don’t come here to preach," Nathaniel snapped. His chest burned with restrained rage. "If you really cared about her, maybe you should’ve told her not to sleep around while she is still married."

He stopped, his jaw clenching hard. The words felt bitter in his mouth. Just thinking about Zara with another man made his blood boil.

"You are her best friend, right?" he continued. "Then you should’ve warned her. Instead, you are barging in here to confront me."

"What the hell are you talking about, Nathaniel?" Bree shouted. "You seriously think Zara would cheat on you? You complete asshole."

Her voice thundered across the room.

"She gave up everything for you." Bree pointed a finger at him. "She put her career aside and became a full-time housewife to take care of you and your son. It’s not because she had to fulfil some promise, but because she wanted to be there for your family."

Nathaniel’s expression faltered. His anger wavered slightly.

Bree didn’t stop here.

"Five years... She gave you everything—her time, her energy, her heart—and you treated her like she was just Zane’s nanny. You never asked how she was doing. You never looked at her properly."

Her body shook with pain and fury. "She put up with your silence, your distance, and never once complained. She loved you, Nathaniel. She waited for you to notice her, to see her, to love her back."

Nathaniel looked away, his chest tightening. Something heavy seemed to settle on him, crushing him.

"She could’ve walked out a long time ago," Bree said. "But she stayed. She held on, thinking maybe one day you’d realize what she meant to you."

She shook her head with disappointment. "But that day never came. Instead, you handed her divorce papers. And when she finally accepted that this marriage had no future and decided to move on, you changed your mind. And now you are keeping her trapped, like she owes you something."

She cocked her head. "Why torment her? Why can’t you just let her go?"

"She is my wife," Nathaniel growled. "I decide whether this marriage ends or not. You don’t get a say in that. And if you really care about her happiness, then tell me—who is the guy she is seeing?"

"What guy?" she snapped, her temper rising fast. "You are throwing accusations without even knowing the facts. Zara isn’t seeing anyone."

"Don’t lie to me," he bit out. "I know there is someone. I’m not blind."

But he didn’t say it outright. He couldn’t bring himself to mention the thong. It clawed at his pride.

Bree lost her control. She hadn’t intended to bring up the thong she had accidentally left in Zara’s car, but the damage it had caused was already too great to ignore. As much as she wanted to avoid the embarrassment, she refused to stay silent, especially when Zara was being wrongly accused.

"You are accusing her of cheating because of a damn piece of lingerie in the car?" she spat. "You didn’t even stop to ask if it was hers."

Nathaniel faltered, confusion flashing across his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked warily.

"It’s not Zara’s. It’s mine."

Silence fell like a hammer.

Nathaniel froze, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. He stared at Bree as if she had just spoken a foreign language.

"You are lying," he hissed.

Bree folded her arms tightly. "No, I’m not. It was mine. I was in her car with someone. It got left behind. Zara had nothing to do with it."

Nathaniel sat there, stunned. He refused to believe a word she said. He thought she was making up stories to protect Zara.

"Last night, I borrowed Zara’s car to meet my boyfriend," Bree explained. "We were together in that car. Whatever happened had nothing to do with Zara."

Nathaniel shook his head slowly. His ears rang, his thoughts scrambled. He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Then Bree held out her phone. "Here. Look at this."

On the screen was a selfie—Bree and her boyfriend, cozy in the front seat.

Nathaniel took the phone, his eyes scanning the image. The interior was familiar. It was Zara’s car.

"We didn’t plan to get intimate in the car," Bree said regretfully. "It just happened. But I never imagined it would lead to something like this. I hate that Zara got caught up in my mess."

She looked him dead in the eye. "Maybe you don’t care about her. But I do. And I won’t stand by while you throw baseless accusations at her. I came here to clear her name."

Nathaniel’s mind reeled as he struggled to process it all. While it was a relief to learn Zara hadn’t been unfaithful, the memory of how he had shouted at her and confined her to the house came rushing back, bringing with it a deep, cutting wave of guilt.

’God, what have I done?’

The truth slammed into him, hard and fast.

"She could’ve told me," he murmured. "She could’ve explained. Why didn’t she?"

"Because your opinion doesn’t matter to her anymore," Bree said coldly. "She is done with you. This marriage is finished. Whatever she once felt—whether it was pity, compassion, or a sense of obligation—it’s gone now. So stop trying to hold on to her. You lost her. Let her go."

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