The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 259

The photos of Henry wearing pink lipstick to make Sophia and Billy laugh spread like wildfire after Alexander posted them on social media. Within just two hours, they had gone viral across the internet.

Internet users couldn't contain their amusement:

"LMAO! These pictures of Mr. Harding in lipstick are absolutely killing me! Is this the universal expression when straight men wear lipstick?"

"Wait, wasn't there a rumor that the kid isn't even his biological child? Then why do they look so natural together at that parent-child event? They look like they never got divorced!"

"OMG! Is Henry Harding finally trying to win his wife back?"

"I don't think his ex-wife seems interested in reconciliation at all! Maybe we should give him some advice?"

While the internet was buzzing with commentary, the subjects of all this attention remained blissfully unaware.

I still deliberately avoided getting too close to Henry.

It was the weekend, and I had promised to take Billy fishing and hiking with Alexander.

Though Henry's unexpected appearance had disrupted our plans, I had agreed to treat him to a meal as promised.

With noon approaching, I packed up the fishing gear and asked Henry to choose a restaurant.

Henry still hadn't wiped off the lipstick, showing it off with surprising confidence.

Though I pretended to focus on packing up our fishing equipment, I couldn't help stealing glances at him.

Every time I caught sight of that bright pink on his lips, I had to suppress a laugh.

It was absolutely hilarious!

Alexander had also been smeared with the same shade but had wiped it clean immediately. Noticing Sophia constantly ducking her head to hide her smiles, he regarded the lipstick-wearing Henry with contempt and mocked, "For God's sake, Henry, wipe that damn lipstick off already! Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?"

Alexander didn't have Henry's thick skin and had immediately removed the lipstick from his own face, but seeing how Sophia kept smiling at Henry, he was starting to regret it.

If making a fool of himself could win a beautiful woman's smile, what did it matter?

Now, all of Sophia's smiles were directed at Henry, and it left a bitter taste in Alexander's mouth.

After listening to Alexander's criticism, Henry responded without a hint of shame: "I'm making my wife and son happy, and I'm enjoying it. What's it to you?"

Alexander's face twisted with even more disdain after hearing this. "Henry, get this through your head – Sophia is your ex-wife, not your wife! And the kid isn't even yours!"

In Alexander's view, as an ex-husband, Henry had already lost his chance. Trying to win Sophia back now was just pathetic.

Henry fell silent, giving Alexander a meaningful look that seemed to say: At least she was my wife once. What have you ever been to her?

Then he opened the car door as wide as possible and made an exaggerated gesture of invitation. "My esteemed Ms. Wilson, your carriage awaits." His voice took on a teasing quality. "You promised to treat me to a meal today. You can't back out now."

I nodded. Since I had agreed to it, there was no reason to refuse.

Seeing his mother get into his father's car, Billy wiggled his chubby bottom and ran over, climbing in excitedly. "Yay! We're going to eat!"

Once Henry confirmed Billy was safely inside, he closed the door and instructed the driver to start the car.

Alexander, seeing Sophia enter Henry's car, couldn't contain his frustration. "Sophia! We were supposed to have lunch together! You need to take me with you!"

Henry pressed the central locking button and smiled thinly at Alexander as he approached. "I'm sorry, but this is family time for the three of us. Outside company would be... inconvenient. You're on your own."

With that, he started the car and sped away, leaving nothing but exhaust fumes for Alexander.

By the time Alexander reached where they had been, the car was already gone, its wheels stirring up dust that covered him from head to toe.

He angrily kicked a stone at his feet and growled through clenched teeth: "Henry Harding, this isn't over!"

"I refuse to believe Sophia's heart—shattered to pieces by you—could ever love you again!"

At the restaurant, though I had agreed to treat Henry to a meal, I kept my distance from him throughout.

There was no eye contact or physical interaction between us. When he asked questions, I answered briefly, keeping the conversation flat and minimal.

During the meal, I kept my head tilted toward Billy, giving him my full attention, occasionally serving him food and looking after him. I deliberately avoided any eye contact with Henry.

Several times, I could sense that Henry wanted me to apologize to him, but with Billy present, he kept quiet.

Some conversations were better left for another time—though I had no intention of there ever being a "next time."

Billy was completely oblivious to the tension between us, thoroughly enjoying his meal.

When he finished his main course, the little boy patted his round belly and asked for dessert. "Mommy, can I have just a little bit more? The desserts here are so yummy!"

I glanced at his distended stomach and firmly refused. "Billy, look at how round your belly is! If you eat any more, you'll get indigestion. You don't want a stomachache, do you?"

Billy had always had a sensitive stomach—better to deny him extra food than to let him suffer later. When I refused, Billy's face fell dramatically, and he begged pitifully: "Just one bite? Please, Mommy? I really, really want some."

I was about to refuse again when Henry suddenly interrupted: "If the kid wants to eat, let him eat! What's the big deal? It's not like we can't afford it!"

From his perspective, the child just wanted a small taste of dessert—nothing worth making a fuss about.

He probably thought I was being unreasonably stingy.

Henry ordered another dessert for Billy, who was immediately won over by this act of generosity. "Thank you, Daddy! You're the best!" Despite his gratitude, Billy still looked nervous in my presence. Though the dessert sat right in front of him, he only took tiny bites, afraid to dig in.

Seeing Billy's hesitation, Henry encouraged him: "It's fine, eat as much as you want. Don't hold back." When Billy still seemed reluctant, Henry turned to me. "The boy is growing. What's wrong with him having an extra bite? Or are you so poor you can't even feed your child properly?"

I felt extremely uncomfortable with his comment.

I desperately wanted to argue with Henry or simply leave, but seeing Billy watching me, I restrained myself.

For six years, I had raised this child alone. I knew exactly what Billy should and shouldn't eat. Henry had been absent for six years, and now suddenly he was playing the role of the devoted father? Ridiculous!

Seeing the mockery in Henry's eyes, I took a deep breath, suppressed my anger, and said quietly: "Billy has a sensitive stomach. Eating too much will cause indigestion and give him stomach pain."

Had Henry ever taken care of the child for even one day?

A man who had never raised a child was now telling me how to parent? How ironic.

Henry watched Billy eagerly digging into his dessert and dismissed my concerns: "He looks perfectly fine to me."

I didn't bother responding further. There was no point arguing with such a stubborn man.

Taking my silence as surrender, Henry continued encouraging Billy: "Take your time, nobody's going to steal it from you. If you want more, I'll order another one." Seeing I remained silent, Billy threw caution to the wind and ate with gusto.

However, just as he was down to the last few bites, Billy suddenly put down his spoon and clutched his stomach. "Daddy, my tummy hurts."

Henry's handsome face instantly flushed with embarrassment. He quickly reached out to rub the little boy's stomach. "Is this where it hurts? Let Daddy rub it for you." But as Henry's hand approached Billy's belly, he hesitated. The child's stomach was alarmingly distended, round like a watermelon.

His hand hovered uncertainly in the air, afraid of causing more pain.

Billy was clearly in considerable discomfort, his breathing rapid, slumped in his chair without energy, his little face pale.

Henry tentatively placed his hand on the child's belly, trying to massage it gently, but Billy winced. "Daddy, you're making it worse!" "Daddy, my tummy really hurts."

Completely at a loss, Henry looked to me with pleading eyes: "What do we do?"