My Darling Ex-Wife Is Unaware I’m Rich

Chapter 9: A New Identity

Max’s phone buzzed against the silent office. He almost ignored it, buried in work, but something made him look. The caller ID showed a hospital number, and his brows furrowed.

“This is Max Carter,” he answered.

“Mr. Carter, this is Nurse Stevens at Memorial Hospital,” a calm voice spoke. “Emma Hawthorn’s been in an accident. You’re listed as her emergency contact. We need you here to sign off on her surgery. She’s in critical condition.”

Emma Carter. Or, Emma Hawthorn now, as she’d chosen to be called since the divorce. The name hit him like a punch. His ex-wife, the woman who’d once been his everything and then left him shattered, needed him now. She’d put him down, belittled him, and tossed him aside, yet here he was—her only lifeline.

Max felt a strange blend of sympathy and bitterness rise in his chest. But he didn’t hesitate. He shoved his work aside, grabbed his keys, and headed out of the office, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. Memories of their marriage surfaced with each step: late-night arguments, Emma’s cold words, the sting of her betrayal, the way her parents had looked at him like he was something they’d found on the bottom of their shoe.

But there had also been love, once. The warmth of shared laughter, whispers in the dark. No matter how ugly it had ended, he couldn’t walk away from her at that moment.

_

The hospital’s harsh fluorescent lights and sterile air greeted him as he rushed to the reception desk.

“Max Carter,” he said to the nurse, his voice calm though his hands shook slightly. “I’m here for Emma Hawthorn.”

The nurse handed him a stack of forms. “You’re her emergency contact, correct? We need these signed to move forward with her surgery.”

Max glanced down at the paperwork, his signature appearing on page after page. Every stroke felt surreal—Emma, the woman who had broken him, was now the one depending on him to save her.

He had just put down the pen when he felt a cold presence behind him, a feeling he knew all too well.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” hissed a familiar voice.

He turned slowly, coming face to face with Richard and Fiona Hawthorn, Emma’s parents. Their faces twisted in contempt, expressions as familiar as they were painful. He could still hear Fiona’s sharp voice mocking him for not earning enough, for not measuring up to their standards.

“Max,” Fiona sneered, her eyes narrowed. “Haven’t you done enough damage? What do you think you’re doing here?”

He held her gaze, saying nothing. There was nothing he could say that would change their view of him. To them, he’d always been the poor boy who’d clung to their daughter, the man who had failed to provide. They’d never seen the endless hours he’d worked to support Emma, or the way he’d swallowed his pride day after day.

Richard crossed his arms, looking him over with barely disguised disdain. “Emma doesn’t need you, Max. She’s better off without you, and so are we. You have no right to be here.”

Max felt the sting of their words, but he kept his face neutral. They didn’t know that things had changed for him, that he’d rebuilt his life after Emma left him. He was no longer the man they’d once sneered at, no longer the beggar they’d dismissed. But there was no point in arguing with them now. He was here to make sure Emma got the care she needed, and then he’d walk away.

Fiona’s voice dropped to a hiss. “What? Got nothing to say? Still hiding behind Emma’s success, as usual?”

He remained silent, letting her words wash over him. Fiona’s insults, Richard’s glares—they’d become background noise during his marriage. The constant reminders that he wasn’t good enough, that he was somehow lesser. They didn’t know how hard he’d worked, the sacrifices he’d made. They’d never cared.

“Max Carter?” A nurse appeared in the waiting room, holding a clipboard. “The surgeon needs one last authorization. Could you come with me, please?”

Max nodded and stepped forward, ignoring the heated whispers behind him. He signed his name on the final form, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on him. Just as he finished, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Mr. Carter, we have an urgent situation at the office,” his assistant’s voice came through, tight with concern. “We need you here immediately. A car is en route to the hospital now to pick you up.”

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The timing was perfect. For too long, he’d been just Max, the poor ex-husband. But today, he had no intention of leaving unnoticed.

A few moments later, a man in a dark suit entered the waiting area, his presence calm and assured. He looked directly at Max, his posture formal yet respectful.

“Mr. Carter,” the man said, his voice steady. “I’m here to escort you to your office. The car is ready whenever you are.”

The room fell silent. Richard and Fiona’s faces shifted from scorn to confusion, disbelief flickering in their eyes as they looked from the chauffeur back to Max.

“You…have a chauffeur?” Fiona finally stammered, her face paling.

Max met her gaze, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. He’d spent years letting them belittle him, treating him like he was nothing. But now, the tables have turned.

He held his silence for a beat, enjoying their confusion before he spoke.

“Oh, I won’t be gone long,” he said, his tone cool and confident. “But I have a company to run. Important matters to attend to.”

Fiona’s face contorted, struggling to process this new information, while Richard looked like he’d been slapped. They hadn’t expected this. They’d assumed he was still the man who’d left their daughter’s life with his head hung low, defeated. They didn’t know the Max who had rebuilt, who had thrived, who had found his strength after Emma left.

The satisfaction was brief but satisfying as he turned and walked toward the exit, the chauffeur following. For once, he wasn’t the one walking away defeated. He was walking away with his head held high, leaving them in stunned silence.