All Chapters of Ex-Wife Returns With Secret Baby : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The house felt heavier that evening—too quiet, too still, as if holding its breath for something inevitable. Elara paced the living room, fingers trembling as she waited for the sound of Liam’s footsteps, the sound she used to find comforting. Now every second of his absence gnawed at her.Devano had fallen asleep on the couch after insisting on waiting for Liam, but even in sleep, he looked tense—eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed tight.Elara covered him with a blanket, then straightened just as the front door unlocked.Her heart lurched.Liam stepped in, his shoulders rigid, clothes damp from the night air. He didn’t look at her. He just walked past, jaw clenched tight, hands balled into fists.“Liam,” she whispered.He paused, only for a second.Then continued walking toward the kitchen.Elara followed him, her breath unsteady. “Liam, please… talk to me.”He stopped at the counter, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him upright.“I tried calling you,” she said softl

The night felt heavier than usual, as if the sky itself shared the weight pressing on Liam’s chest. The living room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp that flickered as though exhausted by its own attempt to stay bright. Liam sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had turned white.He hadn’t seen Elara since the argument—since the moment he said things that now scraped at him like dull, unforgiving blades. Her silence afterward was worse than any shouted accusation. She had simply walked away, leaving him standing there, overwhelmed with the sickening realization that he had crossed a line.But still… he had not apologized.He wanted to. Every part of him screamed to. But his pride, stubborn and deeply rooted, dragged its chains across his tongue whenever the words threatened to spill out.He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have accused her.The scene replayed in his min

The tension in the house had become something alive—an invisible presence that lingered in every room, every hallway, every breath. Even the children could feel it. Especially Devano.For days, he watched his parents move around each other like two ghosts afraid to touch. Liam with his stiff silence, Elara with her quiet sadness. They hardly spoke. They hardly looked at each other. And the house, once warm and full of life, felt colder than the autumn air outside.On the morning it finally broke, Devano stood in the living room clutching his small dinosaur toy to his chest. He watched his father walk past him without a word. He watched his mother wipe her eyes when she thought no one was looking. And something inside him snapped.“Mom?” he asked softly.Elara was kneeling beside a box of folded laundry, her hands stilling when she heard his small voice.“Yes, sweetheart?” Her voice trembled more than she intended.Devano hesitated. His lip quivered. “Are… are you and Dad going to leav

The front door creaked softly as Adrian guided Elara back toward the house. The sky had turned faintly gold from the setting sun, painting warm streaks across the yard. For a moment, it felt calm. Calmer than anything Elara had felt in days.“You’re sure you’re okay?” Adrian asked quietly.Elara nodded, though her eyes were tired. “Thank you again… for the tea. And for listening.”Adrian gave her a small smile—gentle, careful, the kind that said he didn’t expect anything back. “Anytime.”But as they stepped onto the small wooden porch, the air shifted—sharp and cold.Liam stood at the door.His jaw was clenched. His shoulders tense. His eyes dark with something Elara had not seen in a long time: uncontrolled rage.He had just returned from checking the security system and froze at the sight in front of him—Elara walking with Adrian, their steps close, Elara’s expression softer than anything she had shown him in days.Liam’s voice was low. Rough. “You’re home.”Elara stiffened. “Liam—”

The night felt unbearably long.Liam lay on the edge of the bed, staring at the open doorway of the bedroom that no longer felt like theirs. The sheets beside him were untouched—cold, flat, empty. Elara hadn’t come back after the argument. He knew she wouldn’t.He didn’t blame her.Every sound in the house felt amplified: the faint hum of the refrigerator, the ticking clock in the hallway, the occasional creak of wood as the house settled into sleep. Each noise reminded him of how awake he was—how alone.Liam turned onto his back and pressed his forearm over his eyes.He kept replaying her voice.Stop blaming me for everything.He had heard anger before. He had heard disappointment. But that scream—raw and desperate—was something else entirely. It wasn’t meant to hurt him. It was a cry from someone who had been holding too much inside for far too long.And he had been the one pushing.He sat up slowly and swung his legs over the bed. The room smelled faintly of Elara—her soap, her hai