Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife

Chapter 845:

Zoey, never one to show sympathy, gave an indifferent response. “It takes two to tango. Look at your own faults. Crowell wasn’t like this before.”

The weight of Zoey’s words almost sent Fiona back into that familiar, suffocating state, the feeling of respiratory alkalosis creeping up again. Ignoring Zoey’s harsh tone, Fiona stood up with newfound resolve and snapped, “I’m going to pick up my son now. If you keep him without my permission, I’ll call the police and file a report!”

Zoey’s voice was dismissive. “Go ahead and report it. What’s wrong with wanting to spend more time with my grandson?”

The call abruptly ended, and Fiona, trembling with anger and cold, hurried to Zoey’s house. She was met with the unforgiving sight of a locked door. It was ten at night, and Fiona stood there, the cold wind cutting through her, chilling her to the bone.

Desperate, she called the police. Only after they arrived did the Hewitt family open the door reluctantly.

This, of course, was a family matter, and the police could only mediate.

Fiona didn’t care how the Hewitt family explained things to the officers. She seized the opportunity to rush to her son’s room. The child had been coaxed to sleep, but Fiona wasn’t about to leave without him—she would rather wake him and disrupt his rest than leave him in that house.

Since her marriage to Crowell, nothing had truly belonged to her in this house. Crowell’s parents were not her parents. The house itself had been bought by Crowell’s family. And now, her husband slept in another woman’s bed. She had thought she owned everything, but in reality, it was only the right to use what wasn’t hers.

Only her son, the child she had fought so hard to bring into this world, belonged completely to her.

At that moment, Fiona no longer cared about property or material possessions. All she wanted was her child. Holding him tightly in her arms, Fiona left the Hewitt family home, her tears falling freely as the police held Crowell’s parents back.

“Quick, call Crowell!” Zoey, livid, clapped her hands in frustration. As soon as the police left, she and the elderly couple began complaining to Crowell.noveldrama

At that moment, Crowell was lost in the warmth of his affair with Cara Diaz, fully immersed in the pleasure of the moment.

Afterward, he pulled her closer, his lips pressing against her bare shoulder. Cara, relaxed and pliant in his arms, rested against him, her fingers reaching for a blue pill to slip into his mouth.

Crowell turned his head with a slight frown. “Wait, let me call my mom back first.”

Cara pouted, but seeing the several missed calls on Crowell’s phone, she rolled her eyes, picked up his shirt, and slipped off the bed.

Crowell walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window, phone pressed to his ear. “Mom, what’s going on?”

Zoey’s voice came through sharply, filled with urgency. “Fiona just showed up and took the child away!”

“If she took him, then let her,” Crowell muttered disinterestedly.

The reflection in the window showed Cara, wearing only his shirt, her arms wrapped around him from behind, her head resting gently on his back. Crowell wasn’t focused on his mother at all. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Cara’s hand.

.

.

.