Dear Billionaire Ex, You Don’t Own Me
E. Dahliawhen i left him, my husband begged me to come backshort story for mothershort story about a motherforget my husband i'll go make money chapter 62
On getting to the sitting room, I saw Henry standing with a scissors in one hand, a thick strand of long hair in the other, and a guilty look on his face.
Olivia was standing beside him, with an uneven hair length and guilt-ridden, misty eyes.
The wheels in my head turned as I took a long look at Olivia's head to see if she had any injuries.
Fortunately, she didn't.
Inhaling sharply, I said. “Explain how this happened.”
Fiddling with the hair, Henry began. “We were watching Dora the explorer when Olivia said she wanted a haircut like Dora, so I telled her that I can cut it. I'm sorry, mummy.”
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