The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 247

"Who exactly are you calling trash?" Henry's cold voice sent a chill down my spine.

I could feel his anger radiating through the air between us.

Good. Let him be angry. I didn't care anymore.

In fact, Henry had deliberately chosen to attend this parent-child activity, sending a clear reconciliation signal.

If Sophia would just apologize and promise never to treat him as a replacement again, Henry could let bygones be bygones, pretending nothing had happened.

For Henry, this was unprecedented generosity!

The Wall Street titan, actually lowering himself to attend a kindergarten event, giving a woman the chance to apologize to him? What incredible benevolence!

But instead of gratitude, all I felt was irritation. His arrogance was suffocating.

"Whoever asks is trash!" I snapped, glaring at him. "If you're asking, then you're trash! We're divorced, Henry. Why are you even here, asking to be insulted? Don't tell me you regret the divorce and want to get back together!"

I couldn't stop myself from twisting the knife. "Let me be perfectly clear: I've been doing just fine without you. Better than fine, actually. Whether you're in our lives or not makes absolutely no difference. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from me and my son!"

Henry's expression froze. I watched as he clenched his fists, clearly struggling to control his temper.

After what felt like an eternity, he leaned in close, threatening in a whisper. "That mouth of yours is really something," he said, his eyes locked on my lips. "I wonder if you could still talk this much trash while kissing. Keep insulting me, and I'll kiss you until you can't say another word."

My face instantly burned. I bit the inside of my cheek and turned away, refusing to look at him again.

This was his typical tactic, threatening me physically.

Billy stood watching our exchange, arms crossed over his chest, his expression clearly saying: "You two are so immature."

The teacher's voice interrupted our standoff: "Harding family, please come over here. You're in the third row."

"Now, please arrange your family in the order you'd like to compete," she continued.

I shot Henry one last disgusted look before reluctantly walking toward our assigned position. After observing the other competitors, Henry had already formulated a strategy. He wanted Billy to go first, me second, and himself last.

"No way," I protested immediately. "Billy should be in the middle."

I wanted Billy to act as a buffer between me and this man, so we wouldn't have to make physical contact.

Henry didn't even bother looking at me. "Request denied! We've been watching this game carefully. The players must be arranged in order of height—either ascending or descending. The person in the middle must be the second tallest for maximum efficiency!"

Billy turned to me with pleading eyes. "Mom, Dad's right! His strategy makes sense. Don't you want us to win?"

Billy didn't care about the tension between us—he just wanted the mysterious prize that the teacher had promised to anyone who won three games.

Looking at his hopeful expression, I couldn't bring myself to ruin this for him, no matter how much I despised the arrangement.

The game began with Billy going first. The teacher placed a tennis ball between his neck and chin. The little boy carefully clamped it in place and slowly walked toward me. When he reached me, he signaled for me to crouch down.

I squatted to his level, taking the ball from him using only my neck, then carefully stood up. Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly began walking toward Henry.

As I approached him, I suddenly realized the problem. How exactly was I supposed to transfer this ball without touching him?

The rules were clear: no hands allowed, and the ball couldn't touch the ground. I had to place it directly on Henry's neck.

Physical contact was unavoidable.

Henry watched me approach with a smug smile spreading across his face. He'd clearly anticipated my dilemma. Standing tall and imposing, he made no attempt to help, looking down at me with undisguised satisfaction.

When I stopped in front of him, he neither bent his knees nor lowered his head.

His expression said it all: Want to complete the game? Then beg me.

The playground buzzed with noise—children laughing, parents cheering, voices echoing across the open space. Even residents from nearby buildings were watching from their windows, drawn by the festive atmosphere.

In fact, Billy had secretly called Henry the night before using his children's smartwatch.

"Dad, no matter what, you have to come to the competition tomorrow," Billy had pleaded. "Help me win first place so I can give the special prize to Emily."

Despite knowing Billy wasn't his biological son, Henry had missed the boy terribly these past two weeks. He'd wanted to agree immediately but held back to make Sophia admit her mistake.

"What's in it for me if I help you win?" he'd asked coldly.

Billy had given him a promise: "If you come help me win, I'll make Mom treat you to dinner. I know you're divorced and she doesn't want to see you, but I can arrange a meeting. She'll even pay for the meal!"

This offer had been too tempting for Henry to refuse, and they'd worked out the details together—Henry would arrive just in time, making it impossible for Sophia to object in front of everyone.

Now, watching me move sluggishly toward his father, Billy shouted impatiently: "Mom, hurry up! If we lose, I get nothing!"

"Mommy, you have to help your son win this competition!" he pleaded.

My son's voice snapped me back to reality. Seeing the desperation in Billy's eyes, my maternal instincts overrode my pride.

Looking at Henry's smug face, I gritted my teeth. "Could you please bend down a little?" I forced myself to say.

Standing at 6'2", Henry towered over me by more than a head. Transferring the tennis ball from my neck to his would be impossible without his cooperation.

Henry remained firmly in his designated circle, watching me approach with growing amusement.

He whispered, "Now you're asking for my help, dear ex-wife. Mind your attitude. Why can't you bat your eyelashes and sweeten your tone like other women? Why must you make everything feel like a declaration of war?"

I nearly exploded with anger but caught myself when I noticed all the people around us and remembered Billy's eagerness to win. I swallowed my rage.

With a forced smile that didn't reach my eyes, I whispered through clenched teeth: "Please. I'm asking nicely."

I kept my voice low enough that only Henry could hear, then immediately felt my face flush with embarrassment.

Seeing my compliance, Henry finally took action.

"Good girl. Come closer to me," he murmured.

He reached out, grasping my arms, and bent his knees into a half-squat. Tilting his chin sideways, he moved toward my neck.

Though our faces were offset, skin contact was inevitable as we transferred the ball. Our cheeks and jawlines not only touched but slid against each other for a good thirty seconds.

Despite the cool early spring air, my face burned where it touched his.

Henry's clean, masculine scent invaded my senses like wildly growing grass, creeping from my nostrils straight to my heart.

Something switched on inside me, unleashing a flood of intimate memories—moments of passion we'd shared in bed, bodies entwined in the darkness.

The sensation rippled through my entire body, penetrating straight to my heart.

I trembled involuntarily, unable to control my body's response when he touched me.