Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Fitch's expression was icy as he brushed past Mr. Colby without a word, his strides decisive as he headed for the exit.

Mr. Colby, initially trembling in fear, brightened up at the sight of Fitch's unwavering exit. The rumors must be true then; Mr.

Haskins had a disdain for Zoey, the woman who shamelessly threw herself into men's beds.

Was she trying to play the innocent here, looking down on his status? How amusing.

A few steps forward, Fitch paused to light a cigarette when he heard Zoey's voice pierce through the stillness.

"Get off me, why did you close the door?! Don't touch me!"

"Quit the act! How much do you want? I'll pay."

The bathroom door had been locked from the inside, muffling the voices within. Fitch froze as if struck by a spell, tossing his freshly

lit cigarette into the nearby trash and turning back.

Zoey was pinned against the washstand, her coat yanked down. Sweat dripped from her forehead due to her fierce struggle, her

voice intermittent, "I'll definitely sue you."

"After you've had your fun, you won't want to sue me, sweetheart," Mr. Colby adored her looks and smirked triumphantly at the

thought.

pants, the door behind

wind out

Colby, belt undone with his slacks hanging low, went pale at

"Mr. Haskins."

he left? Why

weaken. Her gaze was unfocused,

Colby's shouts for Mr. Haskins. Which Mr. Haskins

a mess, incapable

washstand, felt a surge

to dodge, and took a solid blow to the chest. Spitting out blood, he collapsed against the wall, his

uncontrollably.

but the hotel's heating kept the chill at bay. Her coat lay

her face

unsteady on

coat, lifting her with

nausea rising, yet nothing cout. She hadn't eaten in days, having

wine at dinner.

hearing her shaky

footprints on his trench

set her

chattered, her teeth clacking

too thin for the harsh weather, though they did flatter her