Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

She had never seen Fitch so vulnerable before.

Fitch was always the epitome of pride and cold detachment, especially towards women, never showing a hint of mercy.

But here he was, collapsed beside her, silently breaking apart.

Zoey tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was unyielding.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, Zoey."

"Honey, I'm sorry."

He kept apologizing, holding onto her hand as if letting go was not an option.

Zoey was just too exhausted. She had lost track of how many times he had said sorry or how long he had been crying.

Her eyes stung, maybe from the harsh lighting, so she closed them again, quickly drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke, Fitch was still by her side, but now asleep.

The doctor was there, changing her bandages, and when he saw her attempt to free her hand, he quickly intervened.

"Mr. Haskins hasn't rested for four days. Let him sleep a bit longer."

Blinking in surprise, Zoey listened as the doctor continued.

"Four days and nights, without a wink of sleep. He'd collapse if he pushed any further. Let him sleep; he's genuinely worried about you."

Zoey, too tired herself and nursing a headache, just

condition, assured her she was going to be fine before leaving with his tray. Now, it was just

exhausted, still deep

painted

more, losing track of time until she heard Fitch's

resting, don't

"Is mommy okay now?"

to stay in the hospital for a couple more

Feeling

as

her, Zoey didn't

eyes, still

somewhat groggy. Conte bet

small hand took hers, placing something

been a piece of

"Mommy, get well soon."

sudden pang, and she swallowed

again, it

to sit up, only for Fitch to

looked away,

eyes downcast, silently hooked her fingertips,

a pillow

she

and then served

bow of porridge, spoon

ent