My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 58

I looked up at him, disbelief written all over my face.

During my time at The Hawthorne Dynasty, Alexander had always been distant—neither cold nor warm, neither particularly distant nor particularly close. So how could he suddenly show up with a cake?

"Don’t like it?" Alexander asked, noticing my expression.

I shook my head, then quickly nodded.

How could I not like it?

I had seen classmates eat it before. This bakery’s cakes were expensive, and I’d been lucky enough to try their matcha cake once. The taste was unforgettable.

Back then, my father’s salary was enough to support the two of us. He’d never been stingy with me. But afternoon cakes, like afternoon tea, were a luxury—something precious for a family like ours.

"I’m glad you like it," Alexander said with a faint smile, before turning and heading upstairs.

I sat there, dazed, staring at the paper bag in front of me. I still couldn’t quite believe it. Only when Alexander was almost at the top of the stairs did I snap back to reality, shouting up the stairs, "Thank you, Second Brother!"

Whether or not Alexander heard me, I knew my voice was filled with sweetness.

For the first time, our conversation was no longer just a simple exchange of pleasantries.

It felt like, with this cake, our relationship had taken a significant step forward.

I held the cake’s paper bag, glancing around, my heart bubbling with contentment.

At that moment, even the dullest math and physics homework felt charming. I put the cake aside, silently reminding myself to finish the homework quickly so I could finally enjoy it.

That evening, just as I’d predicted, I finished my homework half an hour faster than usual. I carefully unwrapped the cake, treating it like a precious treasure.

Once unwrapped, I didn’t rush to eat it. Instead, I took a few photos with my phone.

None of the shots seemed perfect.

I sifted through them until I finally found one that was passable. I posted it as a status update, with no words—just a cake emoji.

It was my silent joy.

It was the unspoken, girlish thoughts in my heart.

It was my most innocent, untainted love at that moment.

That day, I thought the Black Forest cake from Afternoon Time tasted especially delicious—one hundred times better than the matcha cake.

Later, I often bought their Black Forest cake myself, and gradually, it became a habit.

If you were to say I liked this bakery’s cakes, it wasn’t so much about the cakes as it was about the person who had given them to me.

It wasn’t until now that I understood—the cake I had treasured for so long was something someone else didn’t want.

The sentiment I had kept for so many years was easily given away to Isabella.

What Isabella didn’t want, was left for me.

Just like Alexander—when Isabella broke up with him, he could marry me.

Alexander’s POV

At 11:20 p.m., the gates of The Crescent Estates opened, and a black Porsche drove in.

"Sir, we’ve arrived."

James turned on the interior light and glanced back at the rear seat.

I was leaning back in the seat, eyes closed, resting. At his words, I raised a hand to rub my brow, opened my eyes, and got out of the car. I walked toward the house.

I opened the door, and the house was dark.

I felt a bit more awake as I pressed the switch by the door. The living room instantly lit up, the bright lights almost blinding me.

The living room was empty, with only the harsh light casting shadows on my lone figure.

I stood in the middle of the room, glancing around, an odd feeling in my chest. Something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I walked to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of warm water. As I walked back out, I finally noticed.

In the past, when I came home late from work, the living room was always lit.

Vivienne would sometimes be watching TV, sometimes on her phone, or sometimes she’d fall asleep on the sofa, waiting for me to come back and carry her to the master bedroom so we could rest together.

I knew she was always waiting for me.

The day I returned from my business trip at the beginning of the month, Vivienne had waited for me and eventually fallen asleep on the couch.

But after I brought up the topic of divorce, that was the last time it happened. When I came back at night, the living room was always pitch dark, filled with a chilling silence.

"Sir, you’re back." Gabriella, hearing the sounds in the living room, came out to check.

"Mm."

"You’ve been drinking. Should I make you some hangover soup?"

"Go ahead."

I took a sip of water, sat down on the couch, leaned back, and closed my eyes, tiredly rubbing my forehead.

After a moment, Gabriella brought the hangover soup and placed it on the coffee table, waking me up, "Sir, drink it while it’s hot."

"Mm." I opened my eyes, gave a low reply, but didn’t move.

Seeing the steaming soup, Gabriella returned to the kitchen and soon came out with a plate of fresh fruit, placing it in front of me. "Sir, if you don’t want the soup, you can have some fruit instead."

The fruits also had hangover-relieving effects.

"Thank you."

"It’s no trouble. These fruits were originally prepared for Madam, but Miss Vivienne didn’t seem to have much of an appetite today. She barely ate dinner and went upstairs early, leaving the fruit untouched."

I paused for a moment. "Is Vivienne still having stomach issues?"

"It seems like today was the only day it bothered her. She looked a bit preoccupied." Gabriella subtly hinted.

She knew that the divorce hadn’t gone through, probably due to Chairman Hawthorne’s interference.

But whatever the reason, there seemed to be a chance for reconciliation in their marriage.

She still hoped they could return to the harmony they once had.

"I see," I nodded, took a few bites of fruit, then headed upstairs to rest.

Vivienne’s POV

The next morning, when Alexander returned from his run, I was already sitting at the dining table, and Gabriella was setting out breakfast.

Alexander went upstairs, showered, changed, and came back to sit down across from me.

"Morning."

I glanced down at my food and casually replied, "Morning."

The table was quiet as we ate.

After a moment, I put down my chopsticks and stood up. "I’m done. I’m heading to the office."

Alexander set down his chopsticks as well. "I’m done too. I’ll go with you."

We both sat in the back seat of the car.

James drove quietly.

The atmosphere in the car was thick with silence.

No one spoke.

I wasn’t sure when it had started, but the conversations between us had become fewer and fewer.

Neither of us were particularly talkative, but we used to exchange words more often. I’d make an effort to find things to talk about, to engage him.

Now, I rarely spoke.

Most of the time, I stared out the window, lost in thought.

"Not in a good mood?" Alexander broke the silence.

"No."

"Then why aren’t you talking?"

"There’s nothing to say."

There really wasn’t anything to say—we had reached a point where there was nothing left to discuss.

In the past, our conversations hadn’t been frequent, but it wasn’t as dead silent as it was now.

Alexander could clearly tell I was in a bad mood.

Gabriella had mentioned that Vivienne had been the same when she returned from the office yesterday.

He spoke again. "Is this about your dissatisfaction with Olivia’s punishment? She’s already apologized to me for not properly managing the interns. Cutting half of her year-end bonus is a pretty hefty penalty."

Thinking about Olivia’s ambiguous message on WhatsApp, Alexander wondered if my mood had something to do with her.

I smiled, but a trace of sarcasm flickered in my eyes. "Does CEO Hawthorne really believe it was the interns under Olivia’s supervision who did it?"

It was hard to believe that CEO Hawthorne could be so naïve.

Alexander, confused, asked, "Are you saying Olivia did it and then blamed the interns? But why would she do that? She lost half her year-end bonus. What would she gain from it?"

I looked up at him. "What if I told you Olivia likes you, and that’s why she’s always been so critical of me?"