Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife

Chapter 864



Chapter 864:

When she emerged, Michael was sitting on the living room sofa, a cigarette in hand.

Dulce wanted to offer a parting word before leaving, but feared her emotions would overwhelm her. Instead, she silently grabbed her suitcase and walked past him.

“Dulce,” Michael called out.

He sat motionless on the sofa, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, his head slightly tilted. “I’m entrusting Fiona and Crowell’s case to you.” This was the concern that weighed heavily on Michael, the matter he felt compelled to entrust to Dulce.

Dulce inhaled sharply. Although Michael couldn’t see her, she mustered a bright smile. “Okay, don’t worry about it.”

She took a few steps, then paused. “Oh, Michael. I never needed your protection, nor do you need to feel guilty about today.”

Michael’s fingers stalled, the emptiness inside him growing.

“You know, us young folks sometimes make rash decisions and face the music later. If we fall, we just have a drink and get over it by the next day. I hope you find a way to heal from Lacey’s loss soon,” Dulce added, hoping to ease his burden.

The door slammed shut, and Dulce was gone.

Michael remained seated, lighting two more cigarettes as the room filled with a suffocating haze. Suddenly, the sound of frantic flopping drew his attention—a fish had leapt from the sink, thrashing on the floor in a desperate fight for survival.

Even the fish seemed more determined to live than Lacey ever was. An intense bitterness welled up inside Michael, resentment bubbling to the surface.noveldrama

From the very beginning, Lacey had never intended to grow old with him. Each day, she had been consumed with the thought of her own mortality, her words riddled with fears about what he would do when she was gone.

And now, she truly was gone. What use was a promise from the dead? Michael’s gaze fixed on the struggling fish, his eyes reddened, not just from the smoke that now hung heavily in the air but from the weight of his emotions.

Finally, he stood, picked up the fish, and tossed it into the tank with a splash. He turned and ascended the stairs.

Lacey had never set foot in this house.

How could he ever let anyone else live in the place where her presence had lingered?

This house had been prepared especially for Dulce, filled with her warmth. In the living room, he could still picture Dulce sitting cross-legged on the carpet, her attention fixed on the TV.

He remembered her bounding down the stairs eagerly, asking what was for dinner.

In the kitchen, she wandered aimlessly, nibbling on an apple and beaming with pride over the smallest tasks, like peeling garlic.

On the balcony, she leaned against the window, her curiosity boundless as she pointed out every movement outside, always asking if they were being watched.

Michael lay down on the bed, his hand lifting instinctively. His eyes focused on the ring he wore.

It almost felt like Lacey was standing there, watching him.

If she were still alive, she would have scolded him for his cowardice, for not acting like a man.

Dulce had already lowered her pride so much. What more was he waiting for?

The next day, Michael crossed paths with Bobby and Shawn at an event.

Bobby slid into the seat next to Michael with a smug grin. “So, what’s the deal with you and Dulce? Last night, she dragged Fifi out drinking, and she still hasn’t sobered up.”

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