My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 133

Chapter 133: Do you still care about me?

Ava’s breathing hitched, his sudden action startling her. They looked at each other with wide eyes.

Dylan’s expression softened as he recognized her, the tension in his grip easing. “Ava,” he murmured.

“I-I brought you coffee,” she stammered, pulling her hand away quickly. Her cheeks flushed, and she turned aside to mask her unease. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she added in a rush, moving toward the cupboard without waiting for his response.

Retrieving the familiar box from the top shelf, she returned to him, setting the kit down on the desk as she met his concerned gaze.

“You’re worrying too much,” Dylan said dismissively, attempting to dispel her concern. “It’s just a few scratches.”

“I know, but you can’t just ignore them,” Ava countered as she opened the box and retrieved the antiseptic cream. “If they’re not treated, they could get infected.”

She dipped her fingers in the cream and began applying it to his bruised knuckles with delicate care. Dylan winced slightly but didn’t pull away, his gaze fixed on her concentrated face.

Memories of the past flashed before him—moments when Ava had selflessly cared for him during his illnesses, moments he had once taken for granted. Now, as she tended to his wounds with such tenderness, he realized just how fortunate he was to have her in his life.

Dylan reached out and gently grasped her wrist, pulling her down onto his lap. Ava gasped, startled, her eyes locking with his.

“What are you doing?” she stammered, her hands instinctively bracing against his chest.

Dylan’s arms encircled her firmly, holding her in place. “Do you still care about me?” he asked huskily.

Ava blinked, caught off guard by his sudden question. Words momentarily failed her. But she regained her composure soon and tried to stand. His grip tightened just enough to keep her from moving.

“I’m only showing gratitude,” she retorted as she scowled at him. “Don’t take it the wrong way.”

“Gratitude? Is that all it is?” Dylan’s eyebrows arched. “I saw the worry in your eyes. Don’t lie to me, Ava. You still have feelings for me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have cared whether I got hurt.”

His thumb brushed against her cheek. “You could have run,” Dylan said in a hushed tone. “You could have left me to fend for myself, but you didn’t. You stayed. You faced the danger with me. And now you’re here, tending to my wounds like you always did. That’s not just gratitude, Ava. It’s love. You may not want to admit it, but I see it in your eyes.”

Ava’s lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. For a moment, the room was silent, charged with emotions too raw and tangled to name.

Ava’s heart warred with itself as she tried to bury the feelings threatening to resurface. Yes, she was worried about Dylan. Yes, she was grateful for his selflessness in saving her. But love? How could she still love the man who had caused her so much pain, who had left her heart scarred?

‘No,’ she resolved inwardly. ‘This isn’t love. It’s just gratitude.’

“You are thinking too much. I’m doing this for Lilianna,” she found an excuse. “She would be anxious if she found out you were hurt. Stress isn’t good for her, remember?”

Her statement caught Dylan off guard. His arms loosened. He searched her face for a sign she might be lying, but Ava’s expression remained firm, unreadable.

For a fleeting moment, doubt flickered in his mind. Had he been wrong? Was her care really nothing more than duty and concern for Lilianna?

Seeing his distraction, Ava seized the opportunity. She pushed herself off his lap, breaking free from his grasp. “Lilianna’s well-being is my priority,” she stated curtly. “I’ve told you before—I’ll play my part as your wife for her sake, and only for her sake. Don’t misinterpret that.”

She turned to leave but halted her steps and glanced back at him over her shoulders. “Don’t forget to apply the cream regularly until your wounds heal.” With that reminder, she left the study.

Dylan remained seated, his gaze fixed on the empty doorway. His hands rested idly on the arms of the chair, her words ringing in his ears. He couldn’t shake the lingering warmth of her touch or the fleeting tenderness he’d seen in her eyes. Even though Ava denied having feelings for him, her actions contradicted her words.

He chuckled. “Deny it all you want, Ava,” he murmured, “but deep down, you still care about me.”

The buzzing of the phone interrupted his thoughts. Picking it up, he saw a message from Justin. Dylan casually leaned back on his seat as he clicked to open the message.

A photo filled the screen—a man with sharp features and a distinctive scar slashing across his forehead. Beneath it, a text message read: ‘This is the man caught on the boutique’s surveillance footage. Is he the one who attacked you?’

Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the image. That scar—it was unmistakable. He recognized him immediately, his fingers tightening around the phone. The relaxed mood vanished, and seriousness spread across his face as he dialed Justin.

“It’s him,” Dylan confirmed, his words clipped and resolute. “That’s the man who attacked us. I want him found. Now.”

“I’ve already activated our sources. We’ll have an update soon.”

“Good. I need answers. That man knows who sent him after Ava.”

“We’re on it,” Justin assured. “It’s only a matter of time before he is in our grip.”

The line disconnected. Dylan’s eyes burned with determination as he muttered, “Whoever you are working for, you won’t get away with this. Not after you dared to lay a hand on her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hours dragged on, each tick of the clock grating against Dylan’s nerves. He paced the study as he waited for Justin’s call impatiently. He had tried to bury himself in work, but no document or report could distract him from the gnawing restlessness within.

By the time the phone finally rang, it was nearing midnight. Dylan grabbed it instantly and answered the call.

“What took you so long?” he barked, irritated. “Did you find him?”

Justin’s reply came with a grim undertone. “We’ve located his whereabouts, but…” He paused, not completing the sentence.

Dylan frowned as he could sense something wasn’t right. “What is it?”

“We waited for him at his place,” Justin exclaimed, “but he never showed up. We’re combing the area. He can’t hide forever. Just give me a little more time, and I promise you—he’ll be on his knees before you.”

“Damn it!” Dylan muttered, slamming his fist on the table. His chest heaved as he tried to rein in his fury. “Keep searching,” he growled. “I don’t care what it takes. Find him. And when you do, bring him to me. Alive.”

“Understood. I’ll update you the moment we have him. But there is something else that is more disturbing.” Justin’s tone turned even more serious.

“What else has happened?” Dylan grumbled, annoyed.

Justin sighed, frustration bleeding into his words. “It’s about Gianna. She has escaped from jail.”