Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

The housekeeper cinto the den with a message that set Fitch's teeth on edge. “Sir, Ms. Bennitt is at the front gate. Should I let

her in?”

Fitch felt an immediate distaste at the thought of seeing her. He had pegged her as a stable sort, never imagining she could stir up

such scandal.

“No,” he replied, his voice sharp with finality. After his brief response, he grabbed his coat from the rack and exited through the

back door.

It wasn’t until he pulled up to the pet store that he realized why he had driven there.

Ozzy was gone, and in a way, it was on his conscience. It only seemed right to get a new puppy for Zoey as a gesture of

atonement.

But as he walked among the rare breeds, his gaze kept being drawn to a memory of a scrappy little gray mongrel that somehow

seemed more sincere, more beautiful than the ones before him.

Hesitating only a moment, he chose a pristine white pup and, carrying it in a crate, inquired about Zoey’s whereabouts.

Learning that she was in the hospital, he immediately set off in that direction.

Halfway there, he realized that he wouldn't normally do such a thing for anyone else. His brow furrowed as he pondered whether it

was his involvement that had dragged Zoey into this mess to begin with.

Pressing the accelerator, he continued toward the hospital.

Zoey's fever had broken, and she was awake, though her lips were cracked and bloody. She said nothing, staring blankly at the

ceiling, haunted by dreams of Ozzy wagging his little tail, and then of Wendy heartlessly dropping him from a height. Pain throbbed

a place that didn't

a cruel pattern in her life: everything she tried to hold onto inevitably slipped away, even a mere

of broth and placed it

up, her stomach churning at the sight and smell of the

drained of color as she clutched her stomach, “Cornelia, could I have a moment

her distress, Cornelia nodded. “I'll leave for now and check on you later. The nurses will bring your meals.

lost too

Zoey

but

a hospital gown with the window ajar,

threaten to break her.

followed by its opening.

look up.

a familiar presence made her turn. Standing by

been able to stay composed, but now, she

was exhausting, painful, and she never seemed

held a small crate with a tiny white dog inside. “To make it up to you,” he said, his voice as detached as ever, even in this

moment of supposed amends.

Zoey blinked, uncomprehending.

shock, given it was the first the'd cto see her of

of soup and flung it at

to deliver the word he had hurled at her the night

“Get out.”

his brow

cup and throwing it at his forehead with all

said, get out,” she repeated, her

rage, but then he saw something in

noticed how much she had withered, the standard-size hospital gown hanging

she looked at him, the light

stood frozen, unable

a while, the best he

gesture of politeness in response to the scandalous videos