The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 340

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The Wrong Victim

ALISTAIR’S POV:

The afternoon light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. I stood with my back to the room, my phone pressed against my ear, staring out at the city skyline.

Vesper’s voice came through the speaker, soft and worried, the way she always sounded when she was talking about something that troubled her. She had come to my office an hour ago, upset about something she had seen, online, posts from her fans, messages they had received, comments that had turned ugly.

“Some of them are really scared, Alistair,” she was saying. “They reached out to me because they didn’t know what to do. They said your wife has been leaving hostile comments on their pages. Accusing them and threatening them.”

I frowned, my reflection in the glass frowning back at me. “Mary?”

“I know it’s hard to believe. I didn’t want to believe it either. But they sent me screenshots.” Her voice caught slightly, the way it always did when she was upset. “I don’t mind being criticized myself. People have said terrible things about me for years. I’m used to it. But these are just fans. Young kids, mostly. They didn’t do anything wrong. They don’t deserve to be dragged into something that isn’t their fault.”

I turned away from the window and walked back to my desk. My secretary, a woman named Helen who had been with me for over a decade, sat in the corner with her tablet, pretending not to listen.

“I’ll handle it,” I said into the phone.

“Alistair, I’m not asking you to—”

“I said I’ll handle it.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then, softly: “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Those words used to mean something to me. They still did, I supposed. But lately, they had started to feel different. Heavier. Like obligations wrapped in velvet.

We said goodbye, and I ended the call.

I stood there for a long moment, looking at my phone, at the list of missed calls from Mary, at the text messages I had stopped reading days ago. She had been calling constantly. Demanding, accusing and nothing like the woman I had married.

The woman I had married would have trusted me.

The woman I had married would have understood.

I thought about the early years, the way she used to look at me, like I was the only man in the world. The way she used to laugh at my jokes, even the bad ones. The way she used to reach for my hand in the dark, her fingers finding mine without hesitation.