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The Ex–Wife’s Redemption: A Love Reborn
Chapter 18
I took a moment to collect myself before responding, deliberately avoiding Henry’s direction. “I’m fine.”
At this moment, Betty returned from the restroom, sliding into her seat with practiced grace. “What were you two discussing?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Looked rather intense.”
Thomas chuckled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners, as if our previous conversation hadn’t happened. ‘Actually, we were just reminiscing about our medical school days. Remember that time in anatomy lab, Sophia?”
Hearing his words, a genuine laugh escaped me as the memory surfaced. “Oh God, how could I forget? Betty, you should have seen it. Thomas was supposed to be demonstrating proper dissection technique to our study group, but he was so nervous, his hand slipped…”
“The scalpel went flying across the room!” Thomas finished, shaking his head. “Nearly gave Professor Mitchell a heart attack.”
“You were always so composed in class,” Betty mused, reaching for her wine glass. “Hard to imagine you being clumsy.
“That’s because you didn’t see him during our first emergency rotation,” I added, feeling myself relax into the familiar stories. “This brilliant future chief of medicine? He fainted at the sight of his first real trauma case.”
Thomas groaned dramatically. “In my defense, I hadn’t slept in thirty–six hours. And that patient had the most spectacular compound fracture I’d ever seen.”
“You should have seen him afterward,” I continued, warming to the story. “He was so determined to overcome it. Spent every free hour in the ER, volunteering for the worst cases. By the end of the rotation, nothing could faze him.”
“I had an excellent study partner,” Thomas said softly, his eyes meeting mine. “Someone who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”
Betty leaned forward, clearly enjoying the glimpse into our past. “To be honest, I have long had the impression that Sophia has always been perfect”
“Perfect?” Thomas laughed. “Let me tell you about the time she accidentally set off the fire alarm in the research lab. We were all pulling an all–nighter before finals…”
The stories flowed freely, each memory bringing back a piece of who used to be. The ambitious medical student who worked two jobs to help pay for school. The girl who spent her weekends volunteering at free clinics, determined to make a difference. The friend who organized study groups and brought coffee to exhausted classmates during exam week.
“Remember that tiny café near campus?” Thomas asked. “The one with the terrible coffee but amazing muffins?”
“Joe’s!” I exclaimed.“Of course I remember. We practically lived there during finals. You always insisted on buying extra muffins to share with the homeless man who sat outside.”
“He was a former doctor himself,” Thomas reminded me. “Lost everything to addiction. He used to quiz us on rare conditions while we shared breakfast.”
“That’s where you developed your interest in addiction medicine, isn’t it?” I realized, pieces of the past clicking into place.
Thomas nodded, his expression thoughtful. “One person’s kindness can change the course of your life. You taught me that, Sophia.”
“Darling,” Suddenly, Betty’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, Isn’t that Henry and Isabella? Your husband is looking at you quite intently.”
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Chapter 18
I forced a smile, though it felt hollow in my throat. “Henry has beautiful gray eyes. He looks at everyone that way.” The previous relaxed atmosphere dissipated in an instant.
“Should we send Isabella a congratulatory banner?” Betty suggested with mock seriousness. “Thank her for taking such good care of your husband?”
“What?” Thomas’s fork clattered against his plate, he turned his head and saw Henry as well. “He’s flaunting his affair right in front of you, Sophia. How dare he do that!”
“Henry,” Isabella’s voice carried clearly across the space between us, musical and sweet. “That’s Mrs. Harding over there, isn’t it? Should we say hello?”
“No need,” Henry’s reply was cold, deliberately loud. “How disappointing to run into such unpleasant company.”
I kept my eyes fixed on my plate, but I could feel Henry’s gaze burning into me. The Henry I’d married five years ago would never have been so crude, so deliberately cruel. Or perhaps he would have been, and I simply hadn’t known him at all.
“Henry,” Isabella’s voice took on a concerned tone, “the Wilson family once helped the Hardings. You can’t treat her this way. William wouldn’t approve…”
“Enough!” Henry’s sharp command made several nearby diners jump. Don’t mention her!”
I risked a glance up, catching the flash of satisfaction in Isabella’s eyes before she arranged her features into a perfect mask of contrition. “I’m sorry, Henry. Should we go somewhere else?”
“But Henry,” she continued, her voice carrying just the right note of disappointment, “you promised we’d try their famous soufflé…
The rest of the meal passed in a blur of forced conversation and carefully avoided glances. When I excused myself to use the restroom, Betty squeezed my hand in silent support.
I took longer than necessary washing my hands, studying my reflection in the mirror. The woman who stared back looked composed, elegant even – nothing like the trembling mess I felt inside. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door.
Unexpectedly, Henry’s tall frame filled the doorway, effectively blocking my path. He’d loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves – casual gestures that somehow made him look more dangerous.
“Sir?” I kept my voice perfectly polite, as if addressing a stranger. “Would you mind letting me pass?”
“Sir?” His laugh held no humor. “How quickly you’ve forgotten who I am.”
“You know what makes a good ex?” I managed to keep my voice steady. “Someone who acts like they’re dead.”
“Like your old friend Thomas Sanders?” Henry’s voice dropped dangerously. “Strange how he’s suddenly back in your life.”
“Mr. Harding,” I emphasized the formal address, “I left the divorce papers in your study. I’ve already signed them. All they need is your signature!”
“The Hardings don’t do divorce scandals.” His hand shot out, gripping my chin. “Until I sign those papers, you’re still Mrs. Harding. If I were you, I’d behave accordingly.”
“Why should I?” Anger gave me courage. “You’re openly carrying on with Isabella…”
A divorce now would make Grandpa think Isabella forced us apart. His fingers tightened painfully on my jaw. “Do you want to
cause trouble?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out slightly hysterical. “Are you serious? You mean I should keep playing the dutiful wife
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Chapter 18
while Isabella destroys my matriage? If she’s worried about William opinion, maybe she shouldn’t flirt with a married man!”
“I told you,” Henry’s voice turned to ice, “you’re not worthy of speaking her name!”
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