Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

Shirley had her fair share of troubles at work, but she wasn't planning on sharing any of that with Abner.

Cradling a glass of wine, she asked, "Do you have friends at school?"

"Yeah, my desk mate."This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

"That's great. I was worried you might not fit in. Everyone's nice to you in class, right?"

She had never broached these subjects with Abner before. In the past, she thought providing him with enough money was ample care. But ever since she realized how fragile his heart was, she began to reassess her actions.

"Yeah, everyone's pretty cool."

Shirley breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back.

This bar was her favorite spot, and tonight, she couldn't resist indulging in a couple more drinks than usual.

"When I first met you in Maplewood, you were quite thin, but your eyes sparkled. You were wary of me, like a little wolf cub that meant no harm. I offered to sponsor your education on a whim; after all, I was just a student myself, not thinking too far into the future."

"Abner, but I'm someone who sees things through. Once I've started, I won't abandon you until you've graduated from college. So, don't worry, trust me, okay? Work's got me tied up, and I have a flight to catch tomorrow. There's a ton waiting for me abroad, and the time difference makes me hesitant to message you, fearing I might disturb your rest. Just focus on enjoying your time at school. I'm not even asking you to ace your studies, just be healthy and happy, that's all."

"The semester is almost over. By the time I return, you'll have been in your senior year for a month. I feel inadequate for not being there more for you. But next time, when I come back, I won't be leaving. You'll be graduating, and I'll have finished my program with my advisor, ready to stay on and teach."

Her eyes curved into smiles, and she tousled his hair gently.

"If I don't reply to your messages, don't worry, it's not that I don't care about you."

Abner felt a warm and moist sensation in his chest.

He couldn't resist and hugged Shirley tight.

In his eyes, Shirley had always been this towering figure, but holding her, he realized she was actually quite petite.

She must be working hard abroad, having lost weight.

As they embraced, they were unaware that not far away were Mark and his colleagues.

Mark was irritated, having checked on Shirley and found out she indeed had returned but hadn't contacted him.

What was going on? Mr. Davis should have been informed about their breakup; why hadn't anything been done?

His agitation grew, but then he overheard someone say, "Look over there, such a handsome young couple. Young love is always so sweet."

Mark's gaze followed, and there he saw Abner, with none other than Shirley in his arms.

"So, Shirley, you said I was the base one, yet here you are, clearly involved with Abner."

He felt as if his scalp was about to explode, his entire being seething with rage, itching to confront them.

But the conversation around him pulled back his rationality.

"President Albright Jr., how are things going with your girlfriend?"

After Mark had gotten drunk at a bar, Jessica had come to pick him up leading his colleagues to believe she was his girlfriend. Jessica, cunning as she was, blushed but didn't correct them.

Mark didn't clarify either, too drained at the time to bother, especially since Shirley seemed indifferent.

But now, faced with the question, he

felt a twinge of guilt, which quickly

turned to indignation. He and Jessica weren't an item; why should he feel guilty?

The one who should be feeling guilty was Shirley, already entangled with Abner from the start!

By then, Shirley was slightly tipsy, strands of her hair falling delicately on her cheeks, enhancing her gentle beauty.

Abner reached out, offering her a piece of fruit to her lips.

"Shirley, don't drink too much."

She lowered her head to eat the fruit, accidentally biting his fingertip in the process.

Abner stiffened, a tingling sensation running up his spine to the crown of his head.

His bones felt numb, his fingertips curling involuntarily.

Before he could react, he instinctively extended his palm towards her mouth.

"Spit out the pit."

Shirley, her mind a bit muddled, obediently spat out the pit.

Abner, resisting the urge to look at her lips, disposed of the pit into a nearby trash can.

His palm

as left with a trace of her

saliva, but instead of wiping it away, he slowly clenched his hand as if

harboring a clandestine sea