Let Me Go, Ex Husband! のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

IrisUnfortunately, just as I was hoping to have another small "girl boss" moment, Harold was standing outside, practically waiting for me with the door open. He gave me a smug smile as he bowed dramatically. Unfortunately for me, I was not wearing any tea dress. No, it was the simple sheath dress and heels—ridiculously high, but I didn’t even know why they existed. "Hope?" I rolled my eyes with a hidden smile tugging at my lips as I entered the car, feeling slightly excited. I placed the tulips on the chair beside me and reached into my bag to fish out my phone to call Orchard. "Guess what?" I said into the phone after he picked up on the second ring. "The sky is falling and aliens are abducting people? You happen to find yourself in an alien spaceship and guess what? They're not trying to make humans food. Instead, they're trying to input the ultimate party ideas into our heads." "Close call," I said. "Very close. I got your mom flowers to celebrate. I thought, with the whole

IrisHarold already knew where I was heading, I didn’t have to say anything, and found myself musing, then looked at the flowers. What exactly would happen in a few hours' time when Tiffany would show up? Of course, Tiffany was definitely part of the team now, I felt. And while they said there was no "I" in team, there was certainly an "I" in Tiffany. I kept wondering if I should call her to inform her about the allergy, but I realized I didn’t even have her number. Also, knowing Tiffany, she probably wouldn’t listen to me. She would think I was trying to sabotage her, just like she accused me in the flower shop. But I had to warn her somehow, I just didn’t know how. By the time I got to the office, I was rather glad to see Tiffany wasn’t there yet and no ambulance was outside. In fact, it was rather telling, only for me to discover that Orchard’s mom was fine and in her office with her head buried in a tablet. “Oh, thank God you’re here,” she said. “Oh my goodness!” Her face

Tiffany The limo ride back home was nothing short of chaos. At least, if chaos could come in some form of calm. Dad kept his eyes glued to the side of the road. His blues were mostly focused there, hardly considering the rest of us even worth a passing thought. Mom, on the other hand, had her hands in front of her face, going over her freshly done nails. She then raised a palm, as though she was trying to catch the nails in a new light, turned her knuckles towards herself, and clicked her tongue before running it over her teeth. She was angry, I thought. Mom only did that when she was pissed, and Lord help me, I knew Mom was stupid pissed. The last time she did it—or at least the last time I remembered—was when I brought Dave home with my arms locked over his bicep and my head pressed against his shoulder. Mom had taken just one look at me, then at Dave, and like clockwork, she raised her fingers to her face, inspecting her nails in an orderly fashion. Mom was silent, just like tha

Iris Sooner, rather than later, I was in the office, yawning again. Luckily, this time, I had a cup of coffee in my hand as I strolled toward Halle’s office. The news was that she was fine overnight and the doctor had deemed her fit to be discharged. Of course, when Orchard found out about this in the car that morning, he didn’t take too kindly to it. "Keep an eye on her," he'd told me before I stepped out of the car. By the time I opened her office door, I found her bent over her desk, her hands moving quickly over the notepad in front of her. Finally, she looked up as I took about five steps into the room. I held up the second coffee. "I don’t even care what flavor that is—it's coffee. Give it here," she said, reaching for it. By the time she collected the cup, she had downed what I guessed was half of it in one go. "Ice cold Americano. Beautiful," she said, setting the cup down. "Sit," she added, pointing at one of the chairs opposite her desk. "I wanted to run this

Orchard’s PovI was gripping the steering wheel too tightly, my knuckles white as I sped toward Richard’s house. I could barely think straight. The thought of my mother lying in a hospital bed, alone, while my father did God-knows-what with his mistress… it boiled my blood. The man had crossed too many lines, but this time, he’d gone too far.When I pulled into Richard’s driveway, I saw his car parked neatly in front, alongside his wife’s little hatchback. Their home was as warm and welcoming as always—a small, brick house with ivy climbing up one side and flower beds blooming brightly. It was the kind of place that made you forget your troubles, at least for a little while.I rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, Richard’s wife, Clara, answered the door. She was in her usual comfy clothes, a simple sweater and leggings, with a kitchen towel slung over her shoulder. Her face lit up when she saw me.“Orchard!” she said, pulling me into a hug. “It’s been too long.”Before I could