Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Everyone lowered their heads, busying themselves with their meals. Only Nydia, with an apologetic lift of a glass of red wine, said. “Ian, I’m so sorry.” This morning’s breakfast was supposed to be a gathering for internal members to formally introduce Maja into their circle. No one expected such an incident to occur. Ian let out a slight sign. “It’s not your fault.” Nydia wanted to offer some comfort; after all, having a woman throw juice at him in front of his subordinates must have been quite embarrassing. But Ian shifted the conversation. “It’s just Maja—she loves me too much to see me get hurt. That’s all.” The atmosphere suddenly became charged, as if everyone had been shown up by an unexpected display of affection. Nydia gripped her wine glass tighter and took a deep breath. “I never realize you were the lovesick type before.” Ian wiped the juice off his cheek, leaving only three words. “It’s my wish.” Having said that, he followed the direction in which Maja had left. Inside, he felt a sense of relief. Even if Maja had cried her eyes out, she was still on edge. Having witnessed Ian collapsing before her, any little thing might set her off. Ian had thought through these consequences before making his decision. He was torn—aching for her, but at the same time, feeling lost. Love makes one tread on eggshells. But her fiery outburst was at least better than keeping it all bottled up. As soon as Ian turned the corner, he spotted the loathsome Patric loitering nearby. His day was already bad. His presence just added fuel to the fire. Ian looked around and finally saw Maja sitting near a window. Hastily grabbing a fruit bowl from the kitchen, he planned to make some amends. But before he could get close, there was Patric, sidling up to Maja who was browsing the bookshelf, struggling to reach a book. Patric, playing the gallant, handed her the volume. Wasn’t this the classic scene between the lead characters in a cheesy rom-com? And to make matters worse, Patric was her first love! Ian’s blood boiled. He strode forward, shoving Patric aside. Stumbling from the push, Patric gave a dark glare, ” Weren’t you on death’s door? Where’s all this strength coming from?” Ian wished he could smash the fruit bowl into Patric’s face. He had risked treason to bring Patric to North America, not for him to be a thorn in his side. The next moment, Ian clutched his chest and began to cough

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a sudden stab in his chest—surely an echo of Eric’s emotions. He pursed his lips and walked away. Ian couldn’t have been more pleased. He took advantage of the moment to lean into her, using her lap as a pillow. His feigned weakness had diffused her anger, and her fingers now gently combing through his hair. Even knowing he was pretending; she couldn’t help but become soften. She had always known Ian had a way of making her go soft. On the other side. When Phelps got the news about the explosion, he thought he’d misheard. He had muddled Maja’s memories, and was sure enough that she couldn’t find the place. How had Ian’s men found