Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

The housekeeper came into the den with a message that set Fitch’s teeth on edge. “Sir, Ms. Bennitt is

at the front gate. Should I let her in?”

Fitch felt an immediate distaste at the thought of seeing her. He had pegged her as a stable sort, never

imagining she could stir up such scandal.

“No,” he replied, his voice sharp with finality. After his brief response, he grabbed his coat from the rack

and exited through the back door.

It wasn’t until he pulled up to the pet store that he realized why he had driven there.

Ozzy was gone, and in a way, it was on his conscience. It only seemed right to get a new puppy for

Zoey as a gesture of atonement.

But as he walked among the rare breeds, his gaze kept being drawn to a memory of a scrappy little

gray mongrel that somehow seemed more sincere, more beautiful than the ones before him.

Hesitating only a moment, he chose a pristine white pup and, carrying it in a crate, inquired about

Zoey’s whereabouts.

Learning that she was in the hospital, he immediately set off in that direction.

Halfway there, he realized that he wouldn't normally do such a thing for anyone else. His brow furrowed

as he pondered whether it was his involvement that had dragged Zoey into this mess to begin with.

Pressing the accelerator, he continued toward the hospital.

Zoey’s fever had broken, and she was awake, though her lips were cracked and bloody. She said

nothing, staring blankly at the ceiling, haunted by dreams of Ozzy wagging his little tail, and then of

Wendy heartlessly dropping him from a height. Pain throbbed through her—there wasn't a place that

didn't hurt.

It seemed to be a cruel pattern in her life: everything she tried to hold onto inevitably slipped away,

even a mere pet.

Cornelia walked in with a steaming bowl of broth and placed it beside Zoey. “Drink some soup; you’re

weak,” she urged gently.

Zoey blinked slowly and tried to sit up, her stomach churning at the sight and smell of the broth.

Her face drained of color as she clutched her stomach, “Cornelia, could I have a moment alone,

please?”

Understanding her distress, Cornelia nodded. “I’ll leave for now and check on you later. The nurses will

bring your meals. Try to eat something; you’ve lost too much weight.”

Indeed, between the accident and the fever, Zoey had lost a significant amount of weight.

She attempted a smile but found it impossible to muster.

Once alone, Zoey leaned back and zoned out, wearing a hospital gown with the window ajar, letting in

a breeze that seemed to threaten to break her.

A knock at the door snapped her back to reality, followed by its opening. She assumed Cornelia had

forgotten something and didn’t look up. Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

The door closed, and a familiar presence made her turn. Standing by the door was Fitch.

If this had been yesterday, Zoey wouldn’t have been able to stay composed, but now, she felt nothing

but estrangement.

Had she ever truly liked Fitch? Liking him was exhausting, painful, and she never seemed to learn.

Fitch held a small crate with a tiny white dog inside. “To make it up to you,” he said, his voice as

detached as ever, even in this moment of supposed amends.

Zoey blinked, uncomprehending.

Fitch mistook her silence for shock, given it was the first time he’d come to see her of his own accord.

But then she picked up the bowl of soup and flung it at him.

It was her turn to deliver the word he had hurled at her the night before.

“Get out.”

Fitch’s eyelashes quivered, his brow furrowed. “What did you say?”

Zoey almost laughed, reaching for a cup and throwing it at his forehead with all the strength she had

left.

“I said, get out,” she repeated, her voice eerily calm.

Fitch wanted to react, to rage, but then he saw something in her eyes—a lifelessness that unsettled

him.

He stood frozen, unable to comprehend this change. New chapter avаilable oո Drаmаnovels.com

After a while, the best he could muster was, “Don’t be unappreciative.”

Zoey laughed then, a laugh so pained that her chest hurt. It was a laugh of release, the sound of letting

go.

At that moment, she felt a peace she had never known with Fitch. It was over.