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CHAPTER 116: A SATURDAY JUST FOR US
publish date:
2026-10-26 13:04:13
Latest chapter
The Wife He Loves to Hate Chapter 117: The Question I Didn’t Expect
By late afternoon, we were sitting on the living room rug with a board game spread between us. Charlotte had won three times. I suspected she was cheating. She insisted she was simply better at the game. “You can’t move that piece there,” I protested. “Yes, I can.” “No, you can’t.” Charlotte pointed to the instructions. “It says I can.” I leaned closer. She was right. Again. I fell backward onto the rug. “I’ve been defeated by a seven-year-old.” Charlotte climbed onto my stomach, laughing. “I’m very smart, Mommy.” “Yes, you are.” I brushed her hair away from her face. “And I’m very proud of you.” She grew quiet. For a moment, she studied me with the serious expression she sometimes wore when she was thinking about something important. “Mommy?” “Yes?” “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” She moved off my stomach and sat beside me. “Do you like spending time with me?” The question made my heart ache. I pushed myself upright. “Charlotte, I love spending ti
The Wife He Loves to Hate CHAPTER 116: A SATURDAY JUST FOR US
I’d spent nearly an hour planning the perfect Saturday. There would be pancakes for breakfast, a trip to the bookstore, lunch at Charlotte’s favorite restaurant, and an afternoon baking cookies together. I’d even bought matching aprons. One was pink, the other purple. I was rather proud of that particular detail. Unfortunately, I had forgotten one important thing. I didn’t actually know what Charlotte considered a perfect Saturday. “Are we going somewhere with Daddy?” she asked as she came downstairs. I looked up from the kitchen counter, where I was arranging ingredients in little bowls. “No, sweetheart. Today is just for us.” She stopped halfway down the stairs. “Just us?” “Just us.” Her expression was difficult to read. She seemed pleased, but there was also a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. I wiped my hands on a dish towel. “I thought we could spend some time together. We could go to the bookstore, have lunch, and maybe bake something when we get home.” Charlotte
The Wife He Loves to Hate Chapter 115: A Different Kind of Promise
When the meeting ended, Charlotte walked between us toward the school entrance. She held Liam’s hand on one side and mine on the other. Neither of us spoke for a while. Then she looked up at me. “Mommy?” “Yes, sweetheart?” “Are you angry?” The question caught me off guard. “Angry? Why would I be angry?” “Because I didn’t tell you about Ethan.” I stopped walking. Liam stopped beside me. I crouched in front of Charlotte. “I’m not angry with you.” “But I should have told you.” “Maybe you could have told us sooner, but that doesn’t mean you did something wrong by being scared or upset.” She studied my face. “I thought if I told Daddy, he’d talk to the teacher. And then Ethan would know I told.” I understood then. It hadn’t been that she didn’t want our help. She had been afraid that asking for help would make things worse. “That’s a very real worry, sweetheart,” I said. “But you shouldn’t have to put up with someone being mean to you just because you’re afraid they’l
The Wife He Loves to Hate CHAPTER 114: THE PARENT WHO ALWAYS CAME
Charlotte had stopped crying by the time we entered the conference room, but she hadn’t let go of Liam’s hand. She sat between us, her small fingers wrapped around two of his, her eyes fixed on the floor. Every now and then, she glanced at me as if checking whether I was still there. I kept my hand on her back. “Would you like some water, sweetheart?” I asked. She shook her head. “All right.” I wanted to ask what had happened. I wanted to know why she had been crying, who had hurt her feelings, and whether Sophie had been involved. But the counselor had asked us to let her settle first. So I waited. A few minutes later, Charlotte’s teacher, Mrs. Anderson, entered with a folder tucked beneath her arm. She was a woman in her forties with kind eyes and a calm manner, although the expression on her face suggested that the situation was more serious than an ordinary disagreement between children. “Thank you for coming in so quickly,” she said. “Of course,” Liam replied. “How is
The Wife He Loves to Hate Chapter 113: I Can Handle It Myself
That evening, Charlotte barely touched her dinner. She answered Liam’s questions about school with the same short responses she had given me. When he asked about her reading assignment, she completed it without complaint. When he reminded her to put her schoolbag by the door, she obeyed. On the surface, she was perfectly well behaved. That somehow worried me more. After dinner, I found her sitting on the floor of her bedroom, arranging her stuffed animals in a neat row. I knocked gently against the open door. “Can I come in?” “Sure.” I sat beside her. “That’s a very impressive collection.” Charlotte picked up a small rabbit and placed it at the end of the row. “They’re having a meeting.” “About what?” “Important stuff.” I nodded solemnly. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.” That earned me a tiny smile. I took the opportunity to ask, “Can I talk to you about Sophie?” Her smile disappeared. “Mommy…” “I know you don’t want to talk about it.” “Then why do you
The Wife He Loves to Hate CHAPTER 112: THE FRIEND SHE LOST
By Wednesday morning, I had learned three new things about my daughter. Charlotte hated having her toast cut into triangles. She preferred her school socks folded over once rather than pulled all the way up. And when something bothered her, she became exceptionally interested in the contents of her breakfast plate. The third discovery was the one that worried me. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?” “Mm-hmm.” “Anything interesting happen yesterday?” “Nope.” I watched her push a piece of toast around her plate. “Did you have fun with Sophie?” Her little hand stopped. Only for a second, but I noticed. “She was busy.” “Oh.” I reached for my coffee. “Busy doing what?” “Playing.” “With you?” Charlotte shook her head. I waited for her to elaborate, but she returned to her toast as though the conversation had ended. Across the table, Liam glanced at her before looking at me. I recognized that look. It was the look of a man who had noticed something but wasn’t sure whether
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