Ex-Husband's Regret

I held on to the seat's armrest as the plane touched down. A certain panic overcomes me as I think of what will be awaiting me. What will be waiting for me and Lilly.

It continues to rise as I think of introducing her to the life I left behind years ago. The panic grips me as I imagine the questions she'll have. Not only about my past, but also about Gabriel. I almost pass out when I think of how I'll answer those questions.

I know I've hidden a lot from her. That's what worries me. That she won't understand and that she'll get mad when she realizes just how many secrets I've kept from her.

"Breathe, Harper... Breathe."

I hear his voice slowly whispering in my ear. I hold on to it as I try to fight my way away from the fog and darkness.

"Is she okay?"

My sweet daughter asks. Her voice tinged with worry.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

"I think she's having a panic attack," Gabriel replies gently.

The worry in Lilly's voice forces me to pull myself together. It pushes me to come back and overcome the panic that was threatening to drown me. I couldn't let her see me fall apart. Not when we were miles away from home and everyone here was a stranger to her.

"Mom?"

Pushing the last of my panic down, I open my eyes. I find her worried ones staring at me.

Giving her a smile, I try to assure her. "I'm fine, Honey. Stop worrying, I just got a little bit anxious."

Her gaze shifts from mine to Gabriel's and then back to mine. She nods her head, but I can see she doesn't fully believe me. She has loads of questions and is just waiting for the perfect time to ask. "Good then... Let's fu- leave then," Gabriel said, catching himself in the process before he could curse.

I undo my seat belt and then stand. He gestures for us to follow him and we do. In that moment, I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughterhouse. My anxiety is still there. Still dancing on the edge of the surface.

I was about to get out of the plane when I remembered something and stopped, making Lilly bump me from behind.

"Ouch, seriously, mom? Why did you stop?" she asked, but I was just frozen.

Gabriel, hearing her, turns his head.

"What is it now?" His irritation was very, damn well clear in his voice.

"What about the paparazzi?"

I whispered and looked behind me. I didn't want Lilly get a hint of what's going on. Luckily, she was too busy rubbing her nose to catch what I'd just asked.

"Don't worry about them; my people have already taken care of that," he answered. "I'm not ready for word about Lilly getting out yet."

Sighing in relief, I nod my head.

Satisfied, Gabriel turns around and gets out. We follow close behind.

Once outside, the heat hits me. Damn it, this was the one thing I didn't miss about this country. It was almost always hot. It was almost evening, but the sun was still scorching hot. It would take some time to get used to it again, because when I fled, I went to a cooler region.

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I continue following Gabriel. He stops besides a black car. His driver, whose name I'd already forgotten, was standing beside it too, with the back door open.

I stepped aside to let Lilly get in first, and her mouth was wide open. The girl loved cars, so she probably knew which model this one was and how much it cost.

"No way!" she almost screamed in excitement. "This is a Maybach, a Mercedes-Maybach S-Class to be exact... Sweet, my friends are going to be even more jealous."

She continues to study it in awe and I steal a quick glance from Gabriel. He looks impressed with Lilly. After all, that is one of the things I know they share. Their love for cars.

I'm surprised, too. Not because of the car, but because Gabriel gives her time to study his car before gently asking her to get in.

It honestly surprises me. This is a side of him I never knew existed. A side of him I don't want to know exists. You're wondering why, but it's simple. If this gentle side of him exists, then it just glaringly points to the fact that he did truly hate me. That was the reason why he treated me so fucking poorly when we were married, and not because it was his character or personality.