The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 346

MARY’S POV: 

I turned around. 

Alistair stood in the doorway of the living room, his tie loosened, his shirt untucked, his eyes fixed on the oversized suit jacket draped across my shoulders. Behind him, the lamps cast long shadows across the floor. The half-empty glass of whiskey on the side table. The evidence of a night spent waiting. 

He frowned as he looked toward the driveway, still visible through the open front door. 

“Who was that?” 

I didn’t answer. My fingers curled into the wool of Marl’s coat, holding it closed. 

Behind Alistair, footsteps padded down the stairs. Light. Vesper stepped out, wearing a delicate slip dress, pale that caught the low light. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders, and her feet were bare. She looked like she had just woken up, or like she had never gone to sleep. 

Following his gaze, she smiled lightly. 

“Maybe it was a friend she met at one of those parties,” she said. “After all, the man was driving a Lamborghini Huracán.” She tilted her head, her eyes drifting to the jacket on my shoulders. “Perhaps she simply forgot to mention that she was married.” 

The comment landed like a stone in still water. 

Alistair’s expression darkened. The tired lines around his eyes hardened into something sharper. He took a step toward me. 

“How can you be spending time with another man?” he demanded. His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the anger bleeding through the edges. 

A hollow laugh escaped my throat. I couldn’t help it. 

Hadn’t he been spending time with another woman all along? The question sat on my tongue, heavy and acidic. When I had been attacked, when I had been locked in that cell, when I had called him for help, he had chosen Vesper every single time. Every single time. Yet now he stood here, in the doorway of our home, with her dress clinging to her body, acting as though he had any right to judge me. 

The anger in my voice—in the way my shoulders squared, in the cold set of my jaw-only seemed to infuriate him further. 

His hands clenched at his sides. His gaze flicked toward Vesper, then back to me. He hated the way I was speaking to him. I could see it in the tightness of his mouth, the flush creeping up his neck. More than that, he hated that I was making a scene in front of her. 

“Clearly you’re out of your mind,” he said coldly. “Once you calm down, you’re going to regret everything you just said. Every word.” 

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