The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 107

The winter rain that had pounded against the windows all night finally stopped by morning. I stood at the bedroom window, gazing at the sodden garden outside, watching water drops slide down bare branches like tears.

Henry hadn't come home.

I wasn't surprised. After Isabella's desperate manipulation last night, Henry would undoubtedly push for our divorce as quickly as possible. The thought brought me unexpected relief.

After five years of emotional torment, I was finally approaching freedom.

As I dressed for work in a simple blouse and slacks, the house was unusually quiet. Billy had already left for school, and the staff moved silently around me, as if sensing my fragile mood.

"Mrs. Harding, would you like breakfast?" the housekeeper asked cautiously.

"Just coffee, thank you," I replied, checking my watch. "I need to get to the hospital."

Manhattan General Hospital.

The fluorescent lights in the regular ward cast a harsh glow on Mrs. Davis's wrinkled face. The elderly woman's eyes, clouded with cataracts, stared vacantly at the ceiling as I approached her bed.

"Mrs. Davis, I'm here to check your blood sugar," I said gently, taking her chart from the foot of the bed. "Could you give me your left ring finger, please?"

The old woman tilted her head slightly, her expression suddenly changing. "Sophia? Is that you, dear?"

My heart tightened. Mrs. Davis had been my friend when I lived in that small town.

"Yes, it's me," I admitted, carefully taking her fragile hand in mine.

"Sophia," she whispered, her face lighting up with recognition. "Where's Sam? Is he with you?"

The name hit me like a physical blow.

Sam. Just hearing it spoken aloud sent a sharp pain through my chest. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. The blood glucose meter trembled slightly in my hands.

"Mrs. Davis," I finally managed after a long pause, "don't you remember what I told you last time? Sam got into the National Defense University. He's graduated now and is on a classified mission. He can't contact anyone, not even me. The money I've been sending you is from him."

One lie leading to another, and another.

Over the years, the web of deception I'd woven had become so complex that sometimes I even confused my own stories.

Mrs. Davis's face fell slightly. "Oh, yes... I remember now. Such a good boy, serving his country." She patted my hand with her bony fingers. "But tell him to call more often when he can. I miss him."

"I will," I promised, guilt gnawing at my insides. I wasn't sure if lying to this elderly woman was right or wrong.

Her heart condition meant she couldn't handle any significant shock. The truth would kill her.

As I recorded Mrs. Davis's vitals in her chart, a sharp voice cut through the quiet ward.

"Well, well, look who it is! The woman who sold out my brother!"

I didn't need to look up to recognize Ava Davis. Her distinctive style, reminiscent of a gang member, made her impossible to ignore.

Ava stood at the foot of her grandmother's bed, dressed in designer clothes, her makeup excessive for the early hour. Gold bangles clinked loudly on her wrists as she crossed her arms.

"How much did you get for him, huh?" she demanded, not bothering to lower her voice despite the other patients nearby. "Don't tell me just six hundred thousand! I heard that man is worth billions. What a pathetic price for selling out Sam!"

I kept my focus on Mrs. Davis's chart, refusing to engage.

My silence only fueled Ava's aggression.

"Your new man is quite handsome, by the way," she continued, her voice dripping with spite. "Found yourself a replacement, did you? Does he know what you did to Sam?"

Enough. I snapped the chart closed and faced her directly.

"Enough, Ava," I hissed, keeping my voice low enough that Mrs. Davis couldn't hear. "You agreed to everything back then, so don't push all the responsibility onto me now!"

Ava's red lips curved into a mocking smile. "Weren't you the one begging me to sign those papers? You weren't so confident then, were you?" She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What if I tell your handsome husband everything? I wonder if he'd still want you."

Mrs. Davis began coughing, the sound harsh and concerning. I immediately turned my attention to her, adjusting her pillows and offering her water. This wasn't the place for confrontation.

"I need to get back to work," I said flatly, turning to leave.

"We're not done talking," Ava insisted, following me into the hallway.

Once we were out of her grandmother's earshot, I turned on her. "You want money again, don't you? I've given your family plenty over the years, and you've blown through it all. I don't have any more to give!"

Since marrying Henry, I'd been a housewife focused on raising Billy. I had no income of my own. The money I'd been sending to the Davis family came from Betty's help. When I'd married into the Harding family, there had been no wedding ceremony, but William had privately given me a substantial sum out of sympathy. I'd entrusted it to Betty to invest, and I received dividends from those investments.

I'd divided this money into smaller amounts, periodically sending it to Mrs. Davis under Sam's name. Ava never showed any gratitude.

"I don't care where you get it from," she said dismissively. "Grandma needs at least $500,000 for treatment. Figure it out."

"That's impossible," I whispered, shocked at the amount. "I don't have that kind of money."

Ava's expression turned dangerous. "Then I might have to share some interesting stories with your handsome husband. I wonder if he'd still want you after hearing them."

I could see the calculations running behind her eyes.

I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't use all the money for her grandmother's treatment. The excess would become capital for her to squander and indulge herself.

I never imagined Ava would turn out this way. Years ago, when my mother sent me to live in the countryside, the local children avoided me—but the Davis family had welcomed me. They'd invited me to play and share meals with them. Back then, Sam was twenty, I was thirteen, and Ava was just eight—a sweet, simple girl who adored her older brother.

I couldn't comprehend how that innocent child had transformed into the mercenary deviant before me.

When she'd signed those papers years ago, Harding's lawyer had given her two million dollars—enough for her and her grandmother to live comfortably for life in their small town.

How had they spent it all so quickly?

"I'll see what I can do," I finally said, feeling the weight of the past. "Give me some time."

Ava smirked triumphantly. "You have three days."

As soon as she left, I called Betty, asking her to investigate Ava's situation in the small town where she supposedly lived with her grandmother. I also requested her help in preparing $500,000.

"Sophia, what's going on?" Betty asked, concern evident in her voice. "That's a lot of money."

Before I could answer, one of my colleagues called out, "Sophia! There's a new transfer patient. Could you handle the registration?"

I promised Betty I'd explain later and hurried to the front desk.

The sight that greeted me made my heart skip a beat.

Isabella stood at the reception desk, answering the nurse's questions in her soft, melodious voice. Behind her stood a caregiver and a tall, familiar figure—Henry.

Seeing my husband accompanying his beloved Isabella to check into the hospital, I expected to feel pain, jealousy, anger. Instead, I felt only an unexpected glimmer of hope.

Divorce seemed within reach now.

Isabella spotted me immediately. Her eyes flashed with malicious triumph as she deliberately moved closer to Henry, linking her arm through his. The smile she directed at me was full of gloating satisfaction.

I simply turned away, ignoring her display.

Let her have her moment.

Soon, I would have my freedom.