Ex-Wife Moving Wife Giving Birth? Congratulations, You’re Single Now novel Chapter 75

Chapter 8

“Let go.”

Garrett freezes.

Looks at me, then at this guy he’s never seen before.

His pupils are shaking, filled with disbelief–his grip loosens without him realizing.

“Cass, who is he?”

Rhys pushes between us, looks down at Garrett with pure contempt.

“None of your damn business.”

“Just remember–stay away from us.”

Rhys pulls me away.

His voice drops low: “Don’t look back.”

“Stay with me. I’ll protect you.”

We get through the alley–his car’s parked by the curb.

For once Rhys isn’t joking around. Half–shields me with his body, reaches through the window to grab a water bottle.

“Here, drink this. Calm down.”

“Good thing I’ve been tailing you these past few days. Coming home this late with your light not coming on forever–who wouldn’t worry?”

He pauses.

“That’s your ex, right?”

“…He’s decent–looking I guess, but not as hot as me. Definitely not as young. And his personality’s clearly trash compared to

mine.”

When I still don’t react, Rhys bends down to get in my face.

“You…”

“Hey, don’t cry.”

Mr. Trust Fund has zero experience comforting people.

69.5%

Chapter 8

Frantically tries wiping my face with his sleeve, fanning me, apologizing.

“I wasn’t saying you have bad taste… wait, I mean… ugh…”

I sniffle.

Can’t even explain why I’m crying.

Just seeing Rhys stand up for me, listening to him ramble–it made me cry..

“Rhys, thank you.”

He scratches the back of his head, actually looks a little shy.

“You’re welcome.”

Must’ve felt too sappy because Rhys coughs a couple times, goes back to normal.

“So Cassie, how you gonna repay me?”

“I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Not good enough. Not sincere.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Then what counts as sincere?”

Rhys swallows hard–ears going red like they’re on fire.

“Like this.”

Real quick, he kisses the top of my head.

Before I can even process it, Rhys covers his face and runs off–doesn’t even take his car.

I end up chasing after him.

One ahead, one behind.

Our footsteps stumbling through the dark–uneven, rushed.

He’s flustered.

And so am I.

After that day, Garrett started showing up at my shop regularly.

Today makes eight.

Sits by the window, orders a ton of stuff but doesn’t eat any of it–just props his head up, zoning out.

AWA Chola Now

Chapter 8

Maybe thinking about way back when he promised he’d open a bakery for me.

Six years in Minneapolis and it never happened.

Now that I left him, I’ve got my own little place in San Diego.

“Your coffee!”

Rhys is wearing an apron, slams the cup down on the table with zero chill.

“Drink it and get out!”

I’m behind the counter the whole time, never once looking at Garrett–just hear him coughing now and then, sound of pill bottles rattling.

Staff said when they took out the trash they found a bunch of bloody tissues in the bag.

Garrett’s sick.

Really sick. Could drop dead any day.

I feel… complicated about it.

After all, back when Garrett was working five jobs to survive, running himself into the ground–never saw him this fragile.

Back then he was like he was made of iron, wearing the secondhand coat I thrifted for him in negative twenty, thirty–degree weather doing outdoor work.

Took every job nobody else wanted.

Did all the work people said was too hard, too miserable.

If I hadn’t gone out to buy groceries and happened to see Garrett crouched in an alley gnawing on a frozen bun, I would’ve actually believed him when he said work was easy and he was eating well.

“It’s fine, go home, babe.”

“I’m not cold at all.”

He grinned, touched my hand.

“See? It’s warm.”

It was burning hot.

‘Cause he had a fever.

Garrett refused to go to the hospital no matter what–no choice, I gave him a hundred bucks to buy medicine.

69.9%

Chapter 8

That night he came home early for once.

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