Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 2

As I approached our home, my heart sank at the sight of my belongings scattered outside. My clothes, shoes, and personal items were piled haphazardly on the lawn. My stomach churned as I saw Alex’s mother, Margret, standing on the porch, ordering the maids and butlers to throw my things out.

Margret never liked me. She always found ways to belittle me and poison Alex against me. Seeing her now, orchestrating my public humiliation, was almost too much to bear.

“Why are you doing this?” I demanded, stepping forward, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and despair.

Margret’s eyes flashed with contempt. Before I could react, she slapped me hard across the cheek. The sting was sharp and immediate, but what hurt more was the malice in her eyes. “You dare talk? After everything you’ve put my son through?”

I chuckled bitterly, even as tears filled my eyes. “I stood by Alex. I defended him, supported him through everything. You know nothing about what we’ve been through.

Margret sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “Take your things and get the hell out. Barren woman, who knows nothing other than squandering my son’s money. Alex already divorced you and he’s bringing in someone better.”

The words were like knives, each one cutting deeper than the last. But I forced myself to smile through the tears. “It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Margret’s face twisted with rage. “You ungrateful little wretch. You were never good enough for my son. You’re a failure as a wife, and you couldn’t even give him a child. Now he’s found someone worthy of him, someone who isn’t a useless drain on

his fortune.”

The maids and butlers watched in silence, their eyes filled with pity and discomfort. Margret continued to berate me, cach insult cutting deeper than the last. “You think you’re something special? You’re nothing! My son deserves someone who can give him a real family, not a useless woman like you.”

Her harsh words hit me ever harder, with the eyes of the servants on us, witnessing my humiliation.

“You’re a disgrace, Christiana. A parasite who latched onto my son’s success. You have no place here. Get out and never come

back.”

I stood there, absorbing every harsh word, every insult, but refusing to let her see me break. I knew this was her moment of triumph, the culmination of years of disdain and bitterness. And in that moment, I realized I had to walk away with my head held high, for myself and for the life growing inside me.

“I’m leaving,” I said quietly, gathering what little dignity I had left. “But know this, Margaret. I loved your son with all my heart, and I sacrificed everything for him. One day, he’ll realize the mistake he made. And when that day comes, I hope you can live with yourself.”

With that, I turned and began collecting my things, tears streaming down my face but my mind was already made up. I would rebuild my life, far away from this toxic one.

Margaret’s harsh words echoed in my mind, but I couldn’t dwell on them. I needed to find a place for my things and figure out my next move. I pulled out my phone and began calling people I thought I could rely on

“Hi, it’s Christiana. I need a place to store some of my things temporarily. Could you help me out?” I asked, trembling slightly.

my voice

There was a pause on the other end before the voice responded, I’m really sorry, Christiana, but I can’t help you right now. It’s… it’s complicated.”

My heart sank, but I tried to stay hopeful. I made another call. “Hey, it’s Christiana. I’m in a bit of a situation. Can I bring some of my stuff over?”

“Christiana, I heard about what happened. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry,” the response came, tinged with discomfort.

Each call ended the same way, and the realization hit me hard: Alex had already been around, telling everyone his version of the

story. In their eyes, I was the villain. No one wanted to help me.

I tried to access my bank account, hoping to at least get a hotel room for the night. But when I swiped my card at an ATM, the

screen flashed, “Transaction declined.” I tried again, and the same message appeared. Panic rising, I logged into my account on my phone, only to see a message: “Account frozen.”

“No, no, no,” I whispered, my hands shaking. Alex had frozen my accounts. He had access to them and now, he had taken everything. I was in pain, with absolutely nothing left. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. I had no money, no home, and no one to turn to.

As night fell, I wandered aimlessly through the streets, clutching my bags and hoping to find somewhere safe. The city lights blurred through my tears, and the cold air bit at my skin. I felt utterly lost, each step heavier than the last.

Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab my arm. “Hey! What’s going on?” I cried out, but another hand yanked my bags away. Panic surged through me as I saw two men running off with everything I had left.

“No! Please, stop! Help!” I screamed, but my cries echoed unanswered through the empty streets. The men disappeared into the night, leaving me with nothing but my purse and phone.

I collapsed onto the pavement, sobbing uncontrollably. My entire world had crumbled, and I was left alone in the darkness. I felt utterly broken, my spirit crushed by the weight of my circumstances.

With trembling hands, I fumbled for my phone in my purse. It was the only lifeline I had left, the only connection to the world outside this nightmare. Through tear–blurred vision. I dialed a number, praying for someone, anyone, t

o answer and offer a tad of hope in this dark hour.

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