The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 162

Billy's words hit me like a shot of adrenaline. "If Dad doesn't give you anything, then we won't give him anything either!"

Just like that, the fog of self-pity that had been clouding my mind lifted. I pulled him into a tight hug, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"You're absolutely right, sweetheart. We don't need to waste any more time on people who don't appreciate us."

A renewed sense of purpose surged through me. Why was I wasting another second dwelling on Henry? I had more important priorities—William's treatment, my career, and most importantly, raising this incredible little boy who understood more about relationships than his father ever would.

I straightened my shoulders and opened the bedroom door, only to find Henry standing there, his hand frozen in mid-air as if he'd been about to knock. His expression was unusually vulnerable, eyes filled with desperate hope that immediately brightened when he saw me.

I didn't give him any reaction. Without a word, I brushed past him, deliberately avoiding physical contact as I headed toward the bathroom.

Henry opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. A strange expression crossed his face, possibly guilt. For a split second, I almost felt sorry for him.

After washing up, I tied my hair back and returned to Billy's room to gather our things. Henry hovered in the hallway like a ghost, watching our every move but never quite crossing the threshold.

"Breakfast is ready downstairs," he finally said, his voice lacking its usual authoritative edge.

I glanced at Billy, who was busy stuffing his favorite toy into his backpack. My first instinct was to refuse, to get as far away from Henry as possible.

However, Billy tugged at my hand, saying he was hungry.

"Fine," I replied curtly, keeping my eyes on Billy rather than acknowledging Henry directly.

Downstairs, the dining table was meticulously set with an array of foods, all favorites of mine and Billy's.

Henry pulled out my chair with an eager smile, looking like a puppy desperate for approval. The sight was almost comical—this powerful CEO who commanded boardrooms with a single glance now reduced to serving breakfast and pouring juice.

He might have thought his behavior was endearing. Instead, I found it pathetic.

Throughout breakfast, Henry barely touched his food. He was too busy refilling Billy's milk glass, passing me napkins, and hovering attentively like an overeager waiter.

This man who once couldn't be bothered to look up from his phone during family meals was now hanging on our every word.

A bitter laugh almost escaped my lips.

Henry had finally noticed his family, but it was too late.

As I watched him awkwardly attempt to cut Billy's pancakes into perfect triangles, a thought struck me. There could only be one explanation for this dramatic personality transplant: Isabella must have dumped him. The realization sent a wave of vindictive satisfaction through me.

So the almighty Henry Harding had finally been rejected? Now he was crawling back to his backup option.

Well, I wasn't interested in being anyone's consolation prize.

When breakfast ended, Henry immediately offered to drive us to Betty's apartment. Billy and I held hands as we walked to his car.

The drive was painfully silent. Several times, I caught Henry glancing at me in the rearview mirror, clearly searching for something to say. As we approached Betty's building, I finally decided to throw him a bone.

"If you want to win Isabella back," I said casually, "you should try apologizing. Women appreciate when men admit their mistakes."

Henry nearly swerved the car in surprise, clearly, he hadn't expected relationship advice from me.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice tight with confusion.

I continued, "Buy her some flowers, maybe some jewelry. She'll come around."

The car pulled to a stop outside Betty's building.

I got out and turned to face Henry. "You should do whatever it takes to keep her."

*And stay the hell away from me*, I added silently. The sooner Henry reconciled with Isabella, the faster I could finalize our divorce and move on with my life.

Henry's expression darkened, his earlier fawning demeanor evaporating instantly. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded, eyes flashing with anger.

I took Billy's hand and walked toward the school entrance.

Henry's voice grew louder: "Sophia, you're still my wife until our divorce is finalized! Remember that!"

Without waiting for my response, he threw the car into gear and sped away, leaving nothing but exhaust fumes and the echo of squealing tires in his wake.

I waved my hand in front of my face, backing away from the noxious cloud. "Well, that's one way to say goodbye," I muttered under my breath. "Henry, I'm trying to help you! Don't be so ungrateful!" I added a quiet "Just sign the divorce papers already," as I watched his car disappear around the corner.

The next morning, I was surprised to find Henry's sleek car already parked outside Betty's apartment building as Billy and I stepped out to head to his preschool.

I hesitated on the sidewalk, instinctively pulling Billy closer to me. The last thing I wanted was more interaction with Henry, especially after yesterday's bizarre encounter.

Seeing my reluctance, Henry rolled down the window. "I'm just here to take Billy to school," he called out, his voice deliberately casual. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry."

I checked my watch. He was right—we were cutting it close. Despite this, I was reluctant to have any more contact with Henry.

"Come on, Mom!" Billy tugged at my hand, clearly excited by the prospect of arriving at school in his father's fancy car.

With a resigned sigh, I allowed Billy to pull me toward the vehicle. The drive to Billy's preschool was quick and uneventful. After dropping him off with a kiss and a promise to pick him up later, I immediately headed for the curb, intending to hail a taxi to the hospital.

Henry's hand on my arm stopped me. "Let me drive you to work," he offered, his tone making it sound more like a command than a request.

I shook my head firmly. "No thank you. I can manage on my own."

"You'll be late," he pointed out, checking his watch for emphasis. "It's already eight, and you need to be at the hospital by eight-thirty. The traffic is heavy at this hour."

I silently cursed.

He was right again, and we both knew it. The hospital was at least twenty minutes away, and taxis were notoriously difficult to find during the morning rush.

"I don't need your help," I insisted, pulling my arm free from his grasp.

Without warning, Henry snatched my purse from my shoulder and strode back to his car, dangling it tauntingly from his fingers.

"Your hospital ID and wallet are in here, right?" he asked with a smug smile. "Better hurry, or you'll definitely be late."

Fury boiled in my veins. I marched toward him, ready to snatch back my belongings, but he quickly slid into the driver's seat, still holding my purse hostage.

"You're being childish!" I snapped, yanking open the rear door.

"Front seat," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. When I hesitated, glaring at him with undisguised hatred, he dangled my purse out the window. "Or I drop this right here."

Grinding my teeth, I slammed the rear door shut and reluctantly took the passenger seat beside him. Henry's satisfied smile made me want to punch him.

As soon as we pulled away from the curb, he immediately launched into conversation. "You look terrible when you're angry. Smile a little."

I turned away, staring deliberately out the window. *Just wait until I get my purse back*, I silently promised. *I'll bash his stupid head in with it*.

"I remember when you used to love me, Sophia," he continued, undeterred by my silence. "How can you say you don't love me anymore? Did you ever really love me at all?"

I closed my eyes and leaned against the window, pretending to be asleep. Maybe if he thought I couldn't hear him, he'd shut up and leave me alone.

To my surprise, Henry didn't explode with anger as he would have in the past.

Instead, he fell silent, driving smoothly toward the hospital.

After a few minutes, his voice broke the silence again. "Move back to Maple Grove," he said quietly. "You and Billy take the house, and I'll move out. How does that sound?"

I pressed myself further against the door, squeezing my eyes shut even tighter.

When had Henry turned into such a chatterbox?

What happened to the cold, silent man who could go days without speaking to me?