The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 252

I had zero interest in watching these two men fighting over me like roosters in a cockfight.

"Excuse me," I muttered, slipping away from the table. "I'm going to help Billy with his ice cream."

As I walked toward the dessert station, I could feel both men's eyes burning into my back.

Let them stare—I had more important things to worry about than their petty rivalry.

Billy was standing on his tiptoes, eagerly examining the colorful array of ice cream flavors. His small face creased with concentration as he deliberated over his choices.

"Need some help there, sweetheart?" I asked, resting my hand on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, back at the table, Thomas continued his attempt to provoke Henry.

"You should keep your distance from Sophia," Thomas pressed, leaning forward. "She deserves someone who will put her first—not treat her as a consolation prize."

Henry calmly sipped his water, seemingly unbothered by Thomas's provocations.

"Like I said," Henry replied evenly, "I can't let go of Sophia. Is that a problem?"

Thomas was visibly thrown off by Henry's candid admission.

In his mind, Henry was supposed to be too proud, too arrogant to ever admit vulnerability. Yet here he was, openly acknowledging his feelings for his ex-wife.

"It doesn't matter if you can't let go," Thomas stammered, recovering his composure. "If Sophia had any feelings left for you, she wouldn't have divorced you in the first place!"

Henry merely raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

Thomas, growing increasingly desperate to regain the upper hand, suddenly played what he thought was his trump card.

"What about that night six years ago?" he demanded, lowering his voice. "You and Isabella at the Palace Grand Hotel? Remember that?"

Henry's composure faltered for a split second, a barely perceptible crack in his perfect expression.

"You were so... excited that night that your heart couldn't handle it," Thomas continued, a twisted satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "They had to rush you to the emergency room. Do you remember that, Henry?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper: "You're dirty, Henry. You slept with Isabella. What do you think Sophia would say if she knew?"

Thomas's face twisted with malicious glee.

"If I tell Sophia about you and Isabella sleeping together, do you think she'd still want a man who's been tainted by another woman?"

The sudden mention of this long-buried incident genuinely shocked Henry.

That night six years ago remained largely a blank in his memory.

He only recalled fragments—a desperate physical need, a woman's body, then waking up in a hospital where he remained for a month.

When Isabella had mentioned it years later, he'd only had the haziest recollection of events. The details were lost to him completely.

Henry studied Thomas carefully, his interest piqued. "You were there that night?"

Thomas, seeing Henry's apparent interest in his bait, couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he taunted. "Here's the deal: stay away from Sophia, and I'll keep this little secret to myself. If you keep pursuing her, I'll make sure she learns exactly what kind of man you really are."

Rather than looking concerned, Henry's smile only grew wider—colder, more dangerous. There was something lethal in his eyes now.

"Thomas," he said softly, "don't you think you're overestimating your importance?"

Henry had never been one to respond submissively to threats.

His contempt for Thomas was written plainly across his face.

"First of all, whatever happened occurred before Sophia and I were married," he continued, his voice dangerously calm. "More importantly, your disgusting attempt at blackmail would only make Sophia despise you. Let me give you some friendly advice: Sophia absolutely loathes people who spread gossip behind others' backs."

Thomas hadn't expected this reaction.

He'd been convinced that Henry would be terrified of losing any chance with Sophia.

"Don't pretend you're not worried," Thomas insisted, his confidence wavering. "I know you're just acting calm. Deep down, you're terrified she'll reject you once she knows."

Six years ago, Thomas had personally witnessed Isabella entering the hotel, followed shortly by Henry.

Adults entering a hotel together could only mean one thing. They were obviously there to satisfy their physical desires.

He'd been certain this information would be his leverage, forcing Henry to back off. But Henry's reaction was completely unexpected.

Instead of panicking, Henry seemed almost amused, regarding Thomas with the disdainful look one might give a clown performing a particularly sad routine.

"Go ahead," Henry challenged, his tone light. "Tell her. I'd actually like to use this opportunity to see if she still cares about me at all."

He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. "You know how women are—if she gets angry and makes a scene, it means she still has feelings for me. So please, do me this favor. Tell her immediately. I'm curious to see if she's truly over me."

Henry had been studying the relationship handbook Grace had left in his office. Though some of the advice seemed exaggerated, certain points resonated with him: a woman in love wants to be around you constantly, while a woman who's moved on can barely stand to look at you.

If Thomas really did tell Sophia about that night, it would be the perfect test of her feelings.

Thomas was completely speechless. He glared at Henry, teeth clenched in frustration. "Henry, you asked for this!"

He abruptly stood and walked toward Billy and me as we returned with the ice cream. Billy adored the hotel's desserts, but I was carefully limiting him to just one serving—too much ice cream always upset his stomach.

Thomas intercepted us, blocking our path with a forced smile. "Sophia, could Billy go back to the table first? There's something important I need to tell you."

His expression was so serious that I thought something terrible must have happened.

I released Billy's hand and said, "Sweetheart, go find your dad, okay?"

Billy nodded eagerly, "No problem!" Before I could remind him to be careful, he was already scampering toward Henry.

I kept my eyes on Billy until he was safely seated next to Henry before turning my attention to Thomas. "What is it, Thomas? Just tell me."

I could guess what was coming—some warning about not getting back together with Henry, about how men like him make terrible husbands. As if I needed to be told. I knew perfectly well that Henry's heart belonged to Isabella, not me. Whatever Henry said or did now was just wasted effort.

My heart had already died once; I wouldn't give him a second chance to hurt me.

Thomas looked into my calm eyes and suddenly seemed uncertain, as if realizing this might not be the best moment. But he'd already committed himself.

"Sophia, six years ago, Henry slept with Isabella," he blurted out. "I saw them with my own eyes going to the Palace Grand Hotel together. They were trying to be discreet, entering separately, but I saw them."

All my prepared responses evaporated. I stared at him as if he'd just revealed a new continent on the map.

"What did you say? Six years ago, Henry went to the Palace Grand Hotel?" My voice sounded strange even to my own ears. "What was the exact date? Do you remember?"

I'd once worked at the Palace Grand as an intern. It was there that I'd lost my virginity. The mere mention of that hotel made my skin crawl. That night had been like a black hole in my life, haunting me as my deepest nightmare.

My reaction clearly surprised Thomas.

"Sophia, why are you so focused on the hotel?" he asked, bewildered. "Shouldn't you be upset that Henry is... tainted? He slept with Isabella! He's like a toothbrush that fell into a toilet—aren't you disgusted?"

According to Thomas's expectations, I should have been furious, ready to confront Henry immediately. But my response was puzzling him completely.

I seemed more interested in the details of the event than in the people involved.

"Sophia, what are you thinking?" Thomas pressed. "Six years ago, Henry gave his body and heart to another woman. He's dirty. Why would you keep a man like that?"

I barely registered his words, my mind racing with possibilities.

"Never mind that—just tell me, when exactly did they go to the Palace Grand? Was it winter or summer?"

Thomas was completely thrown by my intensity. "Why are you asking this? What does it matter?"