All Chapters of Ex-Wife Returns With Secret Baby : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Liam sat alone in the dim interior of his car, the engine long turned off, the city lights blurring beyond the rain-speckled windshield. His phone rested in his palm, its screen glowing softly in the darkness. Elara’s name sat at the top of the screen, painfully familiar, like a wound that refused to close.He exhaled slowly and began to type.Elara, I don’t know where to start. I don’t even know if you want to hear from me…His thumbs hovered, then continued.Last night broke something in me. I thought I was strong enough to handle doubt, jealousy, fear—but seeing you with him made me realize how small I feel right now. I hate that about myself.He stopped. His jaw tightened. Outside, a car passed, spraying water across the pavement with a harsh hiss. Liam leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes for a brief second, then looked at the phone again.I keep telling myself that I don’t care anymore. That maybe this is easier—walking away before I lose what little pride I have left.

“I’m just here to get a few things.”Liam’s voice cut through the quiet house like a blade.Elara froze near the kitchen doorway, her fingers still wrapped around a damp dishcloth. She hadn’t heard the car pull in. She hadn’t heard the door open. Suddenly, he was just there—standing in the living room, tall, distant, carrying a duffel bag that looked far too final.“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know you were coming.”Liam didn’t look at her right away. His eyes moved instead over the room—the couch where he had slept, the blanket folded too neatly, the children’s shoes by the door. Evidence of a life still moving, still breathing, without him.“I won’t take long,” he said flatly.The silence that followed was heavy, swollen with words neither of them dared to release.Elara stepped aside instinctively, giving him space. Too much space. The kind that hurt.“Do you want coffee?” she asked, hating how small her voice sounded.“No.”Too fast. Too sharp.Liam walked past her toward the

Liam stood at the doorway longer than he needed to.The house looked the same—same pale walls, same shoes scattered near the entrance—but it no longer felt like his. There was a quiet tension in the air, like the aftermath of a storm that no one wanted to talk about.He stepped inside.“Elara?” he called.No answer.He set his keys down slowly, as if any sudden sound might break something fragile. Then he heard it—soft footsteps on the stairs.Devano appeared at the top, clutching the railing with both hands.Their eyes met.Liam smiled instinctively. “Hey, champ.”Devano didn’t smile back.Instead, he froze.Liam’s smile faltered. “Hey… what’s wrong?”Devano glanced behind him, as if checking whether Elara was watching. Then he took a hesitant step backward.That single movement hit Liam harder than any argument ever had.“Dev?” Liam moved forward. “It’s okay. Come here.”Devano shook his head.“No,” he whispered.Liam stopped walking. “No?”Devano swallowed. His fingers tightened ar

“Careful, it’s still hot.”Elara paused mid-reach, her fingers hovering above the porcelain cup as Adrian gently turned it by the handle and slid it closer to her.“I forgot,” she murmured. “Thank you.”Adrian gave a small smile and withdrew his hand, as if afraid even that simple movement might cross a line. The teapot between them released a thin curl of steam, carrying the faint scent of chamomile into the quiet afternoon air.They were sitting in the garden again.Not because it was planned—nothing between them ever was—but because the house had felt too heavy, too full of silence that pressed against Elara’s chest until breathing became work.Adrian cleared his throat. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.”Elara wrapped both hands around the cup anyway. “I do. It’s warm.”She took a cautious sip.They sat there, the clink of porcelain against saucer louder than it should have been.“How are the kids?” Adrian asked.Elara looked up, surprised by how gentle his voice w

“You’ve already chosen him.”The words fell like a blade between them.Elara looked up sharply, her breath catching as Liam stood in the doorway, rain clinging to his coat, anger etched deep into his face. His eyes were red—not from tears, but from something harder, sharper.“What did you just say?” she asked, her voice barely steady.Liam stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a controlled, deliberate motion. Too controlled. Like he was holding himself together by force alone.“Don’t make me repeat it,” he said. “You’ve made your choice. Adrian.”Elara let out a short, incredulous laugh. “That’s your conclusion now?”“I saw you,” Liam shot back. “I hear things. I see how comfortable you are with him.”“And instead of asking me,” she said, her tone breaking, “you accuse me?”He ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “Every time I try to come back, he’s there. Every time I leave, he fills the space.”“Because you leave!” Elara cried. “You disappear, Liam. You shut down. You d