The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 345

Between Two Lives 

MARY’S POV: 

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. My throat was tight, my chest full of something that felt like gratitude and grief and a hundred other things I couldn’t name. 

Marl leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxing slightly. 

“Besides,” he said, “I’ve benefited from your talents too. Before I tasted your cooking, I had no idea there was a proper way to eat turkey.” 

I laughed again. A real laugh this time, surprising myself. 

“You’re lying.” 

“I’m not. I used to think turkey was just… dry chicken. Then I had yours, and I understood what all the fuss was about.” 

“That was three years ago. Thanksgiving. Alistair invited a bunch of people over.” 

“I remember.” His eyes met mine. “I asked him who catered the meal. He said he did. I knew he was lying, but I didn’t push it. I figured it was someone close to him or his housekeeper, and either way, it wasn’t my business.” 

“And now?” 

“Now I know it was you. And I think you deserve more credit than you’ve ever gotten.” 

The words settled over me like a blanket-warm and unexpected and strangely comforting. 

I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing. 

We sat there in the silence, the darkness pressing against the windows, the only light the soft glow of the dashboard and the distant flicker of the porch. 

Eventually, Marl broke the quiet. 

“You should go inside. Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.” 

“What’s tomorrow?” 

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Whatever you decide to make of it.” 

I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t ask. 

I reached for the door handle, then stopped. His coat was still on my shoulders. I started to shrug it off, but he shook his head. 

“Keep it. You need it more than I do.” 

“Marl” 

“It’s just a coat. I have others.” 

I wanted to argue, but I was too tired. So I nodded and climbed out of the car. 

The cold air hit my face, sharp and bracing, waking me up in a way that the warmth of the car had not. I walked 

He turned and walked back toward his car, his footsteps steady on the gravel. 

I watched him go, then stepped inside and closed the door behind me. 

The house was dark and cold and silent. I leaned against the door for a moment, my forehead pressed against the wood, my eyes closed. The coat was still on my shoulders, heavy and warm and smelling of cedar. 

I should take it off. I should hang it up. I should go upstairs and shower and try to forget everything that had happened tonight. 

But I didn’t move. 

I just stood there, in the darkness, in the silence, in the strange limbo between the woman I had been and the woman I was becoming. 

Then I heard it a voice coming from behind me. 

“Mary?” 

I turned around to look who is it and the person’s gaze immediately landed on the oversized suit jacket draped over my shoulders. The dark wool. The broad cut. The unmistakable evidence of another man. 

The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. 

“Why was another man bringing you home?” 

I gripped the doorframe and said nothing and the person’s gaze didn’t move from the jacket.