Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Maja ignored him, her eyes quietly observing Arlene. So alike, just too alike, yet their personalities were starkly different. If it were Lillian, she wouldn’t speak to her with that tone. She certainly wouldn’t look at her with such disdain. Lillian’s gaze was always tender, doting, as if she wished to give her all the best things in the world. Throughout her life, whenever Maja recalled Lillian’s loving look, she felt invincible. So, who exactly was this woman standing in front of her? Why did Mrs. Sanders bear such a striking resemblance to Lillian? Dylan, seeing that neither of them paid him any attention, dropped the pleasantries. “Someone, get these two out of here. And Beck, knock it off with the antics today.” Beck had reached his limit, hurling a nearby vase to the floor. The shattering noise echoed throughout the room, bringing a hush as heavy as a fallen curtain. “You’re the ones causing a scene!” he bellowed. He stormed up to Dylan, seizing him by the shirt. “Dylan, who the hell do you think you’re throwing out? Who are you spewing venom at? Who did you slap last night, and whose life are you trying to destroy? Take a good look at this, Dylan. This is the paternity test between Maja and Dad! Look closely, who it is you’re so keen to harm, who you loathe so much?” The paternity test smacked Dylan squarely on the head, leaving him dazed. He stood still, letting the paper linger on his face for a moment before it slowly drifted to the floor. Still not satisfied, Beck kicked the paternity test aside. “Maja’s life is a carbon copy of Jolin’s. And Jolin? A pawn used by someone with an agenda, a decoy to blur our vision, to make us think our little sister was dead and stop searching. But Maja is our little sister! She’s alive, she’s always been alive! It’s you, her big brother, who’s been trying to bury her! Do you know what I was thinking about all last night? I was thinking about how to come clean about her identity, but I didn’t dare, I’m not that shameless! Now you tell me, Dylan, how do we go back to the way things were? Should I be the one to tell her that her own brother has been indulging an imposter who’s been out to hurt her, even kill her? I can’t say it!” Beck’s chest heaved tumultuously, his fists clenched, barely containing his rage from exploding onto Dylan’s head. Dylan, for his part, seemed utterly unresponsive.

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vacuum. His only instinct was to pick up the kicked-away paternity test, but his hands trembled so violently that he failed to grasp it time and again. He picked up a shard of the broken vase instead, clutching it tightly in his palm. Blood seeped from his grip, yet he seemed oblivious to his own actions, numb to the pain. After fumbling for a while, he finally held the paper, but his bloody palm stained it red. Despite not being short-sighted, he couldn’t help but bring it close, scrutinizing every word. He recognized each letter, but the reality they spelled out was too much to bear. In his twenties, this was the first time he wished he could just faint. But he couldn’t. He saw everything, crystal clear. Beck standing before him suddenly seemed smaller, his eyes rimmed red. “Think about what you did in Greenfield. Can you even look