All Chapters of Too Late to Regret, The Substitute Wife Left: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Relief flooded through me at the sight of Charles. I had no idea what he was doing there, but I was so happy to see him that I didn’t care. His eyes were narrowed and his fists clenched as he glared at Jerry. Jerry eyed him and down and then chuckled, a low, derisive chuckle.“Fuck off,” Jerry scoffed. “This is none of your business.”Without warning, he charged at Jerry. Jerry hadn’t expected that, and was caught off-guard. Charles kicked Jerry’s legs out from under him and Jerry fell to the ground with a loud thud, baffled. Charles towered over him for a moment, then bent down, taking Jerry’s shirt collar in his fist.“If you EVER even so much as LOOK at her again,” Charles seethed, “you’ll be answering to me. Do I make myself clear?”The room fell silent as the two men glared at each other. Then Jerry smiled slyly.“Understood,” he said, his tone flat. “Now get the fuck off me.”Charles, satisfied that he’d made himself clear, released Jerry’s collar and stepped away from him. Jerr

Andrew’s POV“You’re lucky,” I told Oliver as we got back into my car. “You could have been expelled. Mr. Jacobs is being kind, offering you just a two-week at home suspension. You heard him though, right, Oliver? One more incident like this and you won’t be able to go back to school.”We were in my car, and I was flooded with relief. The meeting with Mr. Jacobs had gone surprisingly well, despite my worst fears. Mr. Jacobs was sympathetic to the fact that Oliver’s mother had abandoned him, so instead of expulsion, Oliver was suspended. Mr. Jacobs was circumventing the strict no bully policy, but only this once.If Oliver started another fight at school, he was out.Oliver stared out the window, completely ignoring me. His lip was split from the boy who had defended himself when Oliver threw the first punch. The details were a bit murky, but apparently the other boy had something to Oliver about him not having a ‘real’ mom. That flippant comment hit Oliver right in the heart, and it wa

Charlotte’s POVOliver didn’t have a mental illness. He just needed some discipline. Andrew was way too soft with him, allowing him to brood over Julia’s disappearance. It drove me fucking nuts, watching Oliver lash out and then watching Andrew stew over it all. So some two bit therapist had said Oliver was suffering from a mental disorder. She wasn’t the one who lived with Oliver day in and day out. Oliver was acting out because his father allowed him to. Nothing less, nothing more.But…If Andrew needed an actual psychologist to tell him that his son was just misbehaving and not actually mentally ill, then so be it. It was all hog wash as far as I was concerned. Oliver had his father wrapped around his little finger. Under the guise of ‘serious issues’, Andrew was letting Oliver get whatever he wanted.And for the past six months, it had worked. Andrew had bent over backwards for Oliver, buying him expensive toys, letting him sleep past noon and play video games all night.But enough

Julia’s POVI stared into Oliver’s eyes, completely stunned.“Oliver, what are you doing here?” I asked. Studying his face, I noticed a scar over his right eyebrow that had never been there before. He also looked taller and leaner, less like a little child or more like a young boy.“Um, this is your new patient,” Sam said, her eyes flitting between Oliver and me.“But that’s impossible,” I started. “Sam, this is my son, Oliver.”Just then, Charlotte emerged in the doorway. With narrowed eyes, she put one hand over Oliver’s chest protectively.“I thought that was your voice,” she sneered at me. “Where’s the psychologist? We don’t have time to talk to the maid.”So Oliver really was my next patient. Charlotte had been in the waiting room. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, with curly tendrils framing her face. She had on a tight fitting halter top and an a-line skirt, both of them a rich purple. Oliver moved backwards, into her, his little face scrunched up in confusion.“I think

Julia’s POV“Charlotte told me you were Oliver’s psychologist, but I didn’t believe her,” Andrew said. His expression belied his surprise at seeing me. His eyes flitted from Oliver on the couch to my degrees on the wall before landing back on me.He looked well, I had to admit, in a short-sleeved polo shirt that showed off his muscular arms. His sandy brown hair was freshly cut, and his face had a touch of sun tan. But at the sight of him, my stomach twisted into a knot.“Yes, I am,” I replied, careful to keep my tone steady and measured. “Oliver is clearly struggling. I’m surprised you’ve waited this long to seek help for him.” My words were undercut with accusation, and Andrew quickly picked up on it.“I’VE waited this long?” he snapped at me, narrowing his eyes. “How dare you accuse me of anything. That’s really rich, coming from the woman who abandoned her son.”“You filed for full custody,” I snapped back haughtily. “Neither of you would see me. What would you have me do? Just wa