Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

As the last wisp of smoke curled into the air, Fitch flicked his cigarette butt into the trash can beside him without a second glance.

He then opened the door to his room and headed to the adjacent bathroom to wash the lingering scent of tobacco from his fingers.

Back in the hallway, Wendy had just finished her check-up. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him.

"Fitch!" she called out, trotting over and grabbing his arm with both hands. "The doc says one of the tests won't be in until

tomorrow. I'll fill you in then."

Fitch nodded, suppressing the urge to pull his arm away.

The two settled into the car, Wendy's face growing somber. She took a deep breath, her mind racing over Fitch's earlier expression.

He had gone out for a smoke—was something bothering him? Could it be because of Zoey?

She couldn't understand it. How could that tramp Zoey get to him?

A woman from that kind of background wouldn't pass on any good genes to her children.

Wendy's grip tightened on her phone. Stealthily, she snapped a photo of Fitch and sent it to Zoey. Zoey never dared to delete

Wendy's contact.

Meanwhile, Zoey had made it back to her place, after Elvis, being a man, felt it inappropriate to linger and had left with a reminder

that she should call if she needed anything. Now, it was just Zoey and her dog Ozzy.

Ozzy was ecstatic to be home, circling around her feet, rubbing against her legs. Zoey's mood had lifted with her dog's antics, but

as she saw the message from

page many times, feeling a pang

Wendy, regardless of her nasty personality. Just

most.

herself, especially in relationships. Seeing the picture Wendy sent

his

maintain his composure if she were

villa, they hadn't really communicated properly. At first, it

mixed with

another day at home, Zoey was startled by the sound of the doorbell. Moving to the door was

but she managed, inching her way along

her surprise,

reserved primarily

in. How had Wendy gotten

face fell,

next moment, Wendy barged in and, with a lack

for trouble, let alone to be so bold in someone else's home. Pain shot through

turned pale, and sweat began to bead and

fear for her bones, the pain

awkwardly on the ground by the

and now you're taking my pet—that's

composure.

to drop Ozzy,

of her dog being harmed. Instinctively, she reached out

a cruel gesture,

to its life, its yelps becoming more