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152: Play It Right
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2026-02-22 19:57:31
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His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 156: Where It Broke
* RACHEL'S POINT OF VIEW * I have watched the footage more times than I can count, my eyes searching every frame as if I were looking for a hidden truth — as if I were desperate to prove my suspicions right. But the reality on the screen was far simpler and far more heartbreaking. The video showed Fiona swinging, her small legs pumping harder and harder. She kept going higher and higher, her laughter almost audible through the grainy, silent film, until the momentum became too much. The swing’s chain gave way under the strain, and she went down with the seat, hitting the ground with sickening force. Her head struck a sharp, unforgiving rock embedded in the dirt. The impact was instant, her small body going limp in a way that made my stomach lurch with a fresh wave of nausea. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I looked from the screen back to my baby. I have always warned her about swinging too high; I’ve told her a thousand times that the sky isn't a playground. Emilia walked inside
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 155: The Promise She Made
* SLADE’S POINT OF VIEW * I walked into the grand living room. There she was, perched on the edge of the armchair, staring into her phone and scrolling with a detached, rhythmic flick of her thumb. “Your woman certainly knows how to create a circus and draw unwanted attention to this family, doesn’t she?” Beatrice said, her voice cold and level, not even bothering to glance up at me. “Well, if we have such an interesting villain in the family, why wouldn’t she?” I countered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. She set her phone aside on the sofa and gestured toward the seat across from her with a regal wave of her hand. “Have a seat.” “You have no heart, Beatrice. Perhaps not even a soul. Can I ask you something?” I remained standing, towering over her. “Go ahead,” she said, finally meeting my gaze. “Are you really my mother? Did I actually come from you? Because I struggle to find a single trace of humanity in you that matches my own.” She was quiet for a moment, her gaze drifti
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 154: Mama Is Here
* RACHEL’S POINT OF VIEW * “Hey…” Barbie waved her hand in front of my face, snapping the invisible thread of my thoughts as I watched Slade’s retreating figure. I had zoned out completely, my mind wandering into the dark corners of his secrets and the cold war he was currently fighting. I blinked and finally looked at her. She laughed, a soft, wistful sound. “I love the way you two love each other. I hope one day I find someone who looks at me like I’m the only star in their sky,” she sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “People on the internet already think you’re married. When’s the wedding, anyway? You should’ve seen the social media comments about that showdown between you and your ‘mother-in-law.’ The world is obsessed.” I looked down at my bare fingers. We weren’t even engaged, let alone planning a wedding. The thought sent a strange pang through me — in the eyes of the law, I was just a woman with his children, a secret he had kept until it was too late to hide. Cale s
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 153: Her Heart Knows
* RACHEL’S POINT OF VIEW * I have no idea how long I had been sitting there, the rhythmic hum of the monitors becoming a heartbeat of its own, when the door creaked open. I raised my heavy head to see Slade standing in the doorway. He looked haggard, the sharp lines of his face softened by a weariness that mirrored my own. “How is she?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper as he stepped toward the bed. “Much better, I hope,” I said, my voice barely audible. “They said her vitals are stabilizing, but she looks so small under these white sheets.” “And you?” he asked, his eyes searching mine. “I have no idea,” I replied honestly. “Why don’t you have something to eat? I can bring something from the cafeteria.” “I’m not hungry,” I replied. My stomach felt like it had been tied into a series of cold, tight knots; the very thought of food made my throat constrict. I felt hollowed out, as if my grief had consumed everything else inside me. “She’s going to be okay, Rachel. She’
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 152: Play It Right
* RACHEL’S POINT OF VIEW * “What are we doing here?” I asked, my voice echoing in the sterile hallway as we stood in front of Rick’s office. Slade knocked once and pushed the door open. Rick was inside, standing by his water dispenser, nursing a paper cup. He tossed the empty cup into the bin and walked toward us with a heavy, professional expression. “I have been waiting for you, Rachel,” he said softly. Slade leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek. “I will be waiting for you in Fiona's room,” he murmured. He finally released my hand and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him. “What am I doing here, Rick?” I asked, my patience thinning. “My daughter is down the hall.” “Why don't you take a seat first?” Rick gestured to the chair across from his desk. I sat down, my body rigid. “Now tell me,” I said, my voice sharp with annoyance. “Rachel… I know what happened to you. I know the anger and the helplessness you’re feeling,” he began, sitting across from me. “B
His Forgotten Love Returns: The Return of the Ex-wife 151: Truth Without Proof
* RACHEL’S POINT OF VIEW * The door opened, and Slade walked inside. My heart sank. I should have known this was a setup — the Chief’s, the interrogation room. How could I be so stupid? Slade has ties everywhere. He pulled out the metal chair across from me, the screech of the legs against the floor sounding like a nail dragged across a chalkboard. He sat down, his presence instantly shrinking the room until I felt like I was suffocating. “What do you think you’re doing, Rachel?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously calm. “I’m fighting for justice for my daughter,” I snapped, leaning back and crossing my arms. “Something her father seems too busy to do.” “With no proof? No evidence? Not a single witness who can testify to what actually happened?” He leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. “You aren't fighting, Rachel.” “Does it matter?” I cut him off, my voice rising. “That woman’s history is enough. Her presence at that park is enough. My gut is enough!” “In the real w
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