Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

It was a shock to everyone when Yvonne, who appeared the epitof gentleness, took her own life so suddenly.

But she did take her own life. No one could fathom why, and Bernard was in the dark as much as anyone else.

He had always believed his marriage was a happy one, full of love, with a lively son to brighten their days.

His hair turned grey overnight, but no answers came. After the tragedy, Leonard and his wife were so stricken with grief that they

withdrew from their social circles, shutting themselves away from the world.

And from that moment on, Bernard never saw his father-in-law again. Now, as he watched Leonard shuffle forward, frail and

trembling, Bernard realized just how deep the sorrow of Yvonne's death ran for many.

Leonard resembled a man on his last legs, panting with each step, leaning heavily on his cane. Probably sensing Bernard's gaze, he

looked up, their eyes meeting across the void.

Bernard felt a sting in his gaze and stepped back as he saw Leonard approaching. Rubbing his temples, he turned to Lindsey, "Go

down; tell him to stay out of this."

Lindsey nodded and hurried off.

Bernard watched Lingery speak with Leonard, who, despite his labored breathing, seemed resolute.

Bernard saw Lingery return with a hesitant tone, "Professor, he says his wife passed away last night, and he's got a letter for you.

He says it's from Mrs. March, and he wants to hand it to you personally.”

Yvonne's departure had left behind a web of mysteries. For the first three years, Bernard dreamed incessantly, wondering if there

was something he'd missed, something that had hurt Yvonne.

him, causing headaches, but the answer to her suicide remained elusive. His once

turned to seething hate.

seemingly perfect couple - how

to face speculation and

had left him a letter. Would it possibly

heart. "Let him in," he

sirens blaring and lights flashing, filled the air,

opened, supported by a cane, Leonard walked in slowly.

any second.

with an unfinished bottle of red wine on the table before him.

as Leonard ascended, leaning on his

the chair opposite

dressed in a suit, looked at the aged Bernard, his face lined with sorrow, and shuffled

last bit of resolve,

the room, his gaze falling on Sarah

hibernation chamber.

his voice was

to bring Yvonne

here

instead fixing his eyes on the

wine, his demeanor composed and genteel, not

the path he had chosen was stained with

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