The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 60

Grace and Catherine stood frozen, their faces contorted with the sudden realization that their scheme had completely backfired. Henry's command still hung in the air between us: "Apologize. Now."

But I no longer cared about empty apologies from these hypocritical women. Five years of their contempt, their cutting remarks, their constant attempts to humiliate me—what difference would a forced "sorry" make now?

I turned away from their shocked expressions, reaching for Billy's small hand. "Come on, sweetheart. It's time to go."

"But Daddy said they have to apologize," Billy looked confused, his innocent eyes darting between the adults.

"Some people never learn how to apologize properly," I explained gently, guiding him toward the door. "It's okay. We don't need to wait."

Behind us, Grace's voice rose sharply, that familiar petulant tone returning now that the initial shock had worn off.

"Henry, don't you see what she's doing? She deliberately set this up! She knew I'd come to Billy's school, she planned to record me all along! This is a trap!"

I kept walking, not even bothering to look back. Her accusations were too ridiculous to deserve acknowledgment.

"She provoked me on purpose! That video doesn't show everything! Don't let her manipulate you like this!"

Catherine joined in too, her words dripping with venom: "I always knew she was cunning. Using our grandson as bait, setting up your sister—it's despicable!"

The door closed behind us, mercifully muffling the noise they were making. I quickened my pace, eager to get Billy away from that tense, malicious atmosphere.

I heard footsteps behind us, moving swiftly down the corridor. Of course, Henry wouldn't just let us leave.

"Sophia," he called, his expensive leather shoes clicking against the hospital floor. "Wait."

I continued walking, though I knew it was futile.

He caught up quickly, strolling casually while I was anxious to leave. "You seem in quite a hurry to leave."

"I don't see any reason to stay," I replied without slowing down. "Your sister and mother have made their feelings perfectly clear."

"Mom, why is Aunt Grace so angry?" Billy asked, his small face troubled.

"She's just having a bad day, sweetheart," I reassured him. "Some people get cranky when they're hurt."

Henry moved to block our path, forcing me to stop. "I didn't expect you actually had evidence. How did you know to record Grace?"

The question caught me off guard. After everything that had just happened, this was what he wanted to know?

"What?"

"The video," he clarified, examining my face with an unsettling gaze. "How did you know to start recording before Grace even showed up?"

I sighed, the weight of five years of constant vigilance suddenly heavy on my shoulders. "I guessed."

"You guessed," he repeated flatly.

"Yes, Henry, I guessed. Your sister shows up at Billy's school with security guards? Obviously she wasn't there to discuss the weather."

"Weren't you worried about guessing wrong?"

The absurdity of the question almost made me laugh. "Wrong about what? That your precious sister might actually be there to do something nice? No, Henry, that would never happen."

His lips curved into something almost resembling a smile. "Indeed. If you didn't have that kind of foresight, you wouldn't be worthy of being my wife."

I stared at him, momentarily speechless. This man's arrogance never ceased to amaze me.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I finally managed.

"It's a fact," he replied simply, in a way that was repulsive.

I shook my head, wondering for the thousandth time how I had ever fallen for this insufferably arrogant man. What did I even see in him five years ago?

Whatever spell he had cast over me had long since broken.

"I need to get Billy home," I tried to step around him.

Henry moved, blocking my path again. "They're your family too, you know."

This statement was so unexpected I almost laughed. "My family? Grace and Catherine? The women who have spent five years trying to drive me out of the Harding household?"

"They are ultimately my mother and sister," he said, as if that settled everything.

"Exactly. They're your family, Henry. Not mine. My family consists of one person—" I squeezed Billy's hand, "—and he's standing right here."

I tried to pass him again, but Henry reached out, his fingers curling around my wrist.

"At least say thank you," he insisted.

I stared at him in disbelief. "Thank you? For what?"

"For defending you in there." His tone suggested I was being deliberately obtuse. "For making them apologize."

This audacity left me breathless. Five years of standing by while his family tormented me, five years of cold indifference to their cruelty, and now he wanted my gratitude?

"And if I hadn't recorded that video?" I asked quietly. "If I hadn't had proof? Would you still have defended me?"

His silence was answer enough.

"That's what I thought," I said, pulling my wrist free. "You weren't defending me, Henry. You were defending your pride. There's a difference."

Something flickered in his eyes—confusion, or perhaps a hint of realization.

"You don't understand," he began.

"No, you don't understand," I interrupted, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. "Do you know why I started recording in the first place? Why I've become so paranoid that I document every interaction with your family?"

Henry's brow furrowed, as if this possibility had never occurred to him.

"Have you ever once considered what your wife might have endured when you weren't looking? What your mother might have said to me in private? What your sister might have done when there were no witnesses?"

The hospital corridor suddenly felt too bright, too exposed. I was aware of Billy's wide eyes looking up at me, of passing nurses slowing their pace to listen.

"You can't possibly expect me to—" Henry started.

"Expect you to what? Pay attention? Care? God forbid you should notice your wife being ostracized by your own family!"

My words echoed in the corridor. Henry stared at me, his expression unreadable.

"I don't need your defense now," I continued more calmly. "What I needed was your defense years ago! If you had discovered all this back then and actively done something to protect your wife from insults, perhaps I would have genuinely thanked you! But now, it's all too late."

His gaze moved from my face to Billy, who was watching us with a troubled expression. In that moment when he saw our son, something in Henry's eyes softened, but the moment quickly passed.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. "You're being too emotional."

"And you're being blind," I shot back. "Or maybe you just don't want to see."

I stepped around him, gently pulling Billy along. This time, Henry didn't try to stop us.

"Sophia," he called after me, his voice echoing in the hospital corridor.

I kept walking, not trusting myself to look back.

"Sophia!" he tried again, his voice carrying a tone I'd never heard before—almost like pleading.

We reached the elevator, the doors sliding open immediately. As we stepped inside, I finally glanced back at Henry. He stood alone in the middle of the corridor, his shoulders not as straight as usual, his whole being seeming to be covered in a layer of shadow.

"Mom?" Billy's voice grew quiet as the elevator doors began to close. "Is Daddy okay?"

Through the narrowing gap, I watched Henry standing there, his moving lips seeming to say:

"Have I really been wrong?"