The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 263

The Story Continues 

ELIJAH’S POV: 

I watched Hannah on the bench beside me, watching our children on the grass, and I thought about the morning I had stood in the kitchen with my hand on a bottle and the reason I had put it down was partly Jacob and partly the floor being solid under my feet and partly the fact that just before I had walked to that cabinet I had thought about her sleeping upstairs in my shirt with the sound of the twins in the house and the life we were building and I had known immediately that I was not going to throw that away for the weight of a bad morning. 

She turned to look at me and caught me looking at her. 

“What?” she said. 

“Nothing,” I said. 

She gave me the look that said she knew it was not nothing and was choosing to let me keep it for now. 

“She is going to tell her class about Mirada tomorrow,” she said, nodding toward Amelia. 

“Mrs. Obama is going to have her hands very full,” I said. 

“Amelia said she is going to ask permission,” Hannah said. “Politely. She plans to frame it as a short educational contribution.” 

I looked at our daughter across the grass, running after her brother with her hair coming out of its ties, entirely herself. “She is going to be extraordinary at whatever she chooses to do,” I said. 

“Yes,” Hannah agreed. “Both of them are.” 

We sat together on the bench and watched them until it was too cold to stay and then we called them in and we walked back to the car and drove home through the early evening traffic with the low golden light of late afternoon coming through the windows. 

In the car Amelia said, very seriously, from the back seat, “I want to visit the grave. Your mother’s grave, Mummy. I want to take flowers. Can we?” 

The car was quiet for a moment. 

“Yes,” Hannah said. Her voice was steady and full at the same time. “We can do that. We will do that soon.” 

“I want to tell her about the show,” Amelia said. “She should know about the show.” 

“She knows,” Hannah said. And then, more quietly, mostly to herself, “I think she has always known.” 

Andrew’s voice came from the other side of the back seat. “What kind of flowers?” 

“What?” Hannah said. 

I thought about Aldric Voros sitting in his house and probably looking at four million views making waves and picking up the phone. I thought about the smear campaign he had launched with the precision of someone who had done this kind of thing before and knew which angles were most likely to find purchase. I thought about the fact that he had built an empire and had lawyers and connections and decades of power behind him and that despite all of that, the thing that had scared him enough to act was a woman in a warehouse in the east side of a city with a pencil and a month deadline and a collection built from her mother’s name. 

That said something. It said that the foundation he had built was not as solid as fifty years of getting away with it had made him believe. It said that somewhere underneath all of that power he knew what he had done and he knew that the right person with the right evidence was eventually going to reach it. 

Hannah was the right person. 

And we now had the evidence. 

I put the phone face down and straightened my jacket and opened the email from Castellan with the updated timeline and I read it carefully and I sent her three specific questions and a note that said we are ready to move when you are and I mean that without any qualification. 

She replied in eight minutes. Which told me that she was ready too. 

Good, I thought. Let us go. 

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