Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

She couldn't even be bothered to utter the word "leave"; instead, she turned her head towards the

window, pretending he wasn't there.

Fitch's forehead was reddened from the splash of soup, and his temper, already on a short fuse, was

being forcibly contained.

He wanted to explode, but seeing her so much thinner, and remembering the slap from the night

before, he swallowed his anger.

"I've left the dog here."

As he finished speaking, Zoey cracked another smile.

"Take your dog and get out."

"Zoey!"

His tone grew stern, his features hardened, but her next words froze him in place.

"Mr. Haskins, are you going to slap me again?"

Fitch stood motionless, something piercing sharply through his heart amidst the dull ache.

He held the dog carrier, suddenly finding himself without a comeback.

To others, Zoey had appeared unhinged the night before, especially after dousing Wendy with boiling

water. Without intervention, who knew what she might have done?

It was a moment of desperation.

He had never been one to hit women.

Fitch suddenly realized he had no defense because, in his heart, Zoey was that kind of woman -

excessive, venomous, unscrupulous in her aims.

He even believed she had gone to the Haskins' with the intention of entanglement, which had pushed

him beyond his limits.

The idea that Wendy would come in person to snatch Ozzy seemed ludicrous, given Wendy's top-tier

upbringing. This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

But who would have thought, Wendy had indeed done so.

Everyone had wronged Zoey that night. How desperate did she have to be to storm into the Haskins'

under those circumstances, only to face further humiliation?

"Irrational."

Dropping that single word, he left with the dog carrier.

Passing the front desk, he grabbed a pack of paper towels, wiping the greasy soup off his suit.

With a frown at the mess, he carried the dog carrier back to his car, placing it on the passenger seat.

The pup was quiet, curled up, oblivious to its rejection.

Annoyed for no reason, Fitch lit a cigarette, cracking the window to avoid smoking out the dog.

After two cigarettes, he drove back to his place.

Unable to give the dog away, he was left to care for it himself. The house was staffed with plenty of

servants; looking after it wouldn't be an issue.

He showered, changed into a fresh suit, and as he dried his hair, he thought of the way Zoey had

looked at him.

He hadn't cared for Zoey's expressions before. When bullying her, she was humiliated; when disliking

her, she was enduring, aggrieved.

Even last night, in his disbelief, she had looked shocked, heartbroken.

For the first time, he couldn't bear to meet a woman's gaze; her heartbreak felt contagious.

Today, her eyes were calm, devoid of despair, except for the initial fury of throwing the bowl. That calm

unsettled him.

Drying his hair, he couldn't resist calling the police station.

The officers present were stunned at these words. Reаd at Draмanоvels.com

Zoey was Belinda's own daughter, and here was a mother speaking so of her child.

But they were police; they had seen worse. Once, a mother had forced scalding oil down her

daughter's throat, blistering her from mouth to intestines, which eventually killed her.

Some mothers envy their daughters' lives, resenting the oppression they've endured and seeking to

inflict the same on their offspring.

Belinda was of such a mindset, unable to stand Zoey's better lot, willing to destroy herself to drag Zoey

down.

Even if Zoey couldn't be killed, she would be branded as the instigator of her own mother's crime.