The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 58

A Gift Too Late 

ELIJAH’S POV: 

The air between us stilled. The noise of children playing in the distance only made her words louder in my head. I wanted to reach for her, but my hands felt heavy and I didn’t want to ever touch without her consent and command. 

“I’m different now,” I told her after a moment, desperate to fill the silence. “I don’t drink anymore” 

She didn’t respond, and I hated that my honesty didn’t matter to her. I took a step closer. “Hannah, I meant what I said last night. I missed seven years of my children’s lives. I don’t want to waste another minute. I want to be part of this family please. Move in with me. You and the twins.” 

She blinked at me, disbelief flickering in her eyes before it hardened into anger. “Move in with you?” 

“Yes,” I said, trying to sound calm, logical. “You’ll be safe. The kids will have both parents. We don’t have to pretend anymore. We can start over.” 

She laughed quietly, bitterly. “Start over? With the man who forced himself on me, treated me like a stranger, and then watched me disappear?” 

I flinched. “I was young, Hannah. I didn’t know how to be a husband. I didn’t even want that marriage, neither did you. We were pushed into it, both of us. I thought I could grow to love you, but I didn’t even love myself back then.” 1 

She stared at me with so much exhaustion, I almost wished she’d yelled instead. “You think being young makes it okay?” she asked softly. 

“No,” I admitted. “But it explains why I failed.” 

“You didn’t fail, Elijah. You destroyed.” Her voice cracked, and she rubbed her hands together like she was holding something fragile she couldn’t let drop. “And you want me to move in with you now…so what? You can feel better about yourself? Redeem your conscience?” 

I clenched my fists in frustration, “You think this is about me feeling better? Those kids, our kids, don’t even want to look at me because of what you told them.” 

Her head snapped toward me. “Excuse me?” 

“You’ve poisoned them against me!” The words burst out before I could stop them. “You filled their heads with stories that make me the villain. They see me for five minutes and already hate me. What else could it be?” 

She took a step back, eyes wide but filled with something colder than anger and disgust. “You really think I’d tell them what you did?” she whispered. “You think I’d sit my seven-year-olds down and describe how their father used me?” 

I wanted to speak, to ask her to stay, to not walk away again. But the look on her face told me it was over before 1 could try. 

“Hannah,” I whispered, “please…” 

She shook her head slowly. “Take your gifts and your apologies. I brought the kids because I thought they / deserved to know you. Not because I want you back in our lives.” 

Then she walked past me, toward the swings, her pace calm but decisive. She called softly for Amelia and Andrew, who came running without a glance in my direction. 

As they left, I stood there, still clutching the unopened gift box. The laughter around me faded into a dull hum. The wind blew, and for the first time in years, I didn’t have the urge to reach for a very strong drink. 

I wanted to live now more than ever and I was going to take any step possible to make sure I have them with me. 

Because she was right. I wasn’t sorry. I was more than sorry and also terrified of knowing I could have had my family but because of my past I wouldn’t.