Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 159

“I’m not made of stone, you know. It’s not like I can just stand there and take that kind of public humiliation without giving a damn. You saw me at Devin’s birthday party, didn’t you?”

Leanne clenched her fists, fighting the pain that was resurrecting within her, spreading through her veins like invasive vines.

Great, her broken heart had been ripped open once again by him.

Curtis inhaled deeply, but the heavy feeling in his chest wouldn’t abate.

He braced his hands on the table, his throat as though filled with a thousand thorns, making even speaking a challenge.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally exhaled a bitter breath, his voice tinged with either self-mockery or regret, “I thought you were green with envy, wishing you were the one marrying Phillip.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Leanne retorted, “I’m dying of envy. How wonderful it would’ve been if I had married Phillip. He wouldn’t have tormented me like you do.”

“It’s my fault,” Curtis’ voice was rough as he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against her shoulder, his breath quivering with each exhale, “I’m a real son of

a bitch.”

Leanne stayed silent, turning her face away, her gaze fixed on some distant point, unwilling to look at him.

She couldn’t tell if Curtis’ remorse was genuine or just for show, and frankly, she didn’t want to know, “Are you done? If so, just leave. And don’t bother me again.”

“Anne, that day…” Curtis tried to explain, but Leanne erupted without warning, “Don’t call

me that!”

sharp, her muscles

now felt like a cruel branding on her very soul,

face, trying to soothe

pushing against him as if facing

“Don’t touch me!”

her struggling form, “Just hear me

else is there to say?

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11:29

Chapter 159

a knock at the door, and Jeremy’s voice

a lifeline, Leanne’s

look pierced Curtis deeply.

face back to him, “Leanne, look at me. Don’t look at anyone else. Trust

found it laughable. Even now, he was trying to tell her there

that dumb, or that the past three years of

is

and Leanne were like tangled balls of yarn, knotted and impossible to

to sense something was

strength from who knows where, Leanne

feet, rushed to the

away