Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

"I know I dropped the ball here, so I brought the little guy to say sorry."

Her face was earnest as she addressed Mr. Haskins, "Kids will be kids, Mr. Haskins. Even in preschool, teachers can't play guardian angels all the time. Some tots trip over their own feet on flat ground-we can't prevent every scrape. Bumps and bruises are all part of growing up, nothing to make a federal case out of."

Nolan, sitting on the bed, could sense the tension escalating, and his discomfort spiked, prompting him to chime in. "Daddy... Daddy, it doesn't hurt."

His words said one thing, but his eyes were brimming with sorrow that threatened to spill over.

Fitch's expression darkened further, his voice reduced to a low, firm directive, "I want to see the child's parents."

"Mr. Haskins, if Nolan is so precious, perhaps he should be kept in a bubble at home rather than attending preschool," she retorted.

The barb hit home. Zoey could feel Nolan's fingers, which she held, tense up, recoiling like startled tentacles.

Fitch's pupils shrank in an instant, as if he felt a stab at his heart, the wound gushing.

"Zoey, do you have any idea what you're saying?"

Zoey frowned, aware that she had spoken out of turn in front of the child.

She took a deep breath, about to clarify, but Fitch grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the room in front of the kids.

Zoey, already resistant to him, felt increasingly uneasy.

"Let go!"

Fitch dragged her out to the hallway balcony, pinning her against the ornamental wall of flowers.

"How could you say such things in front of a child? Do you realize he is..."

But Zoey cut him off, her gaze resolute.

"I meant every word. If you're going to make a scene every time Nolan gets a scratch, then maybe he shouldn't be here. It makes the other kids anxious and our job as teachers harder. Maybe you don't like hearing this, Mr. Haskins, but it's the truth. Nolan doesn't seem to like interacting much; maybe preschool isn't for him."

Disbelief filled Fitch's eyes. Zoey, the once docile and compliant woman, had grown a spine over the past four years, and it was lined with thorns that lacerated him.

Zoey began to apologize, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that in front of Nolan."

"Is 'sorry' supposed to fix everything? Do you realize how upset he is now?"

Fitch's grip on her shoulders was tight, causing her to wince.

He was too strong, and his touch lacked any gentleness.

Her phone rang just then, a call from Henry.

She pushed Fitch away and softened her tone before answering.

"Henry."

"Zoey, I'll pick you up this afternoon. I've got something to discuss."

"Sure, meet me at the school gate at four."

Her cheeks were flushed, an effect of Fitch's infuriating behavior.

Henry picked up on the shift in her mood. "What's wrong? Trouble in class?"

"I'll tell you in the car."

She didn't want to say too much in front of Fitch.

After hanging up, she pocketed her phone.

Fitch's voice was hoarse, "Nolan is hurt, and you're planning to go on a date with another man?"

Zoey found him absurd, acting as if she were Nolan's mother.

His tone riled her up.

"Are we supposed to hold a vigil every time Nolan gets a boo-boo? Mr. Haskins, your family might be well-off, but we're just ordinary people This is how we handle

things. If you don't like it, deal with it

however you please."

She had a temper too, and communicating with this man seemed impossible.

"Zoey!"This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

He called out sharply, gripping her wrist again.

Zoey felt the marks of his grasp forming on her skin.

"Let go!"

"Zoey, I owe you, but don't take it out on Nolan."

Zoey stiffened; that line made her heart feel like it was about to burst.

She pulled her hand away, noticing her eyes were damp.

Why was her emotional reaction so intense?

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Haskins."

She hurried away, but Fitch wrapped his arms around her from behind.

Zoey felt paralyzed, wondering if the man had lost his mind.

This was a balcony, for heaven's

sake any passing teacher couldet

see them, not to mention people below.

Instinctively pushing him off, she slapped his face.

Her eyes wide with disbelief, she stepped back defensively, unsure of his next move.

Was he harassing her? Here, in a preschool?

The nerve!

Her face drained of color, her mind flickering with fragments of memory she couldn't grasp.

Henry's ringtone cut through again, and she turned to answer as she walked away.

"The diner with the meat pies? Not in the

comed

right now, something's

up at school. I might be a bit

swnoh

late.

Behind her, Fitch touched his cheek, his eyes shadowed with anger.