Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

He wanted to light up a cigarette, but then he remembered how Yvonne always nagged Bernard to quit, even going so far as to secretly stash away his packs.

After her nudging, Bernard did kick the habit, but when she passed away, he soon found solace in smoking again.

It was through these intimate moments that Fitch never doubted Bernard for a second. Even now, he clung to the hope that somewhere in the paperwork, he'd find evidence proving Bernard's innocence.

Standing there for a moment, Fitch decided to leave, but then he remembered Bernard mentioning that he could check in on Ian anytime.

Since he was free today and hadn't turned up any new leads, he figured he might as well pay Ian a visit. Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

He called Bernard, "You free? Mind sending me Ian's address? I'm gonna swing by."

Bernard raised an eyebrow and reached for the birdseed, feeding the caged bird with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

"Sure thing, I'll text you the details."

"I'm at Yvonne's grave. Today's her anniversary. I saw the roses you left - you're always the first."

Bernard's fingers paused, slowly setting down the birdseed, "She'd probably want me there early."

Fitch didn't know what to say. A man so devoted to his wife could indeed become obsessed to the point of extremes.

He glanced at the address on his phone along with Bernard's explicit instructions, "Don't stay over an hour. Sarah's swamped lately, plus I'm being watched; can't visit her myself."

Without another word, Fitch got in his car and headed over.

He knew the area well; it was a neighborhood where official families lived, and he and Ian had played there as kids.

Bernard must have pulled some strings to set up his secret lab in such a place. After driving in, Fitch parked at a quaint colonial house.

The entire block was under the watchful eyes of armed guards. The Haskins family also had a residence here, known for contributing a fair share of military talent; they’d congregate in there to host private meetings.

Everyone here was sworn to secrecy, and outsiders were rarely allowed in. The address Bernard gave was his own colonial house in the area.

Fitch knocked on the door and was quickly greeted. Inside, he swapped his shoes in the foyer and noticed that the place hadn't changed much since his last visit.

Back when Yvonne was alive, she baked cakes here for him and Ian. Any kid who had spent time in the neighborhood had probably tasted Yvonne's baking; she was the most popular and perhaps the kindest adult Fitch had ever known.

There was a huge bay window adjacent to the kitchen where Yvonne loved to spend her time.

Fitch stood by that window for a few minutes before slowly making his way upstairs. The first floor remained unchanged from a decade ago, but Ian was likely on the second floor.

Reaching the stairs, he saw that three rooms had been merged into one large space where Ian now lay in a bed, with Sarah and a masked assistant busy examining vials.

Sarah only had a mask on her face and gave him a slight nod when she saw him.

On his way over, Fitch had pondered whether all this was some dark plot by Bernard. But now, he saw for himself that everything seemed normal.

Ian truly was bedridden, looking no different from when he was at Maja's. Approaching the bedside, Fitch noticed a cup of warm water for Ian; his lips were moist, proof that he was being well cared for.