The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 45

Blood Doesn’t Always Mean Family 

HANNAH’S POV: 

THAT SAME DAY: 

It felt so unreal standing there with the two people I had not seen in a long time. I never prepared myself for how I would react when I would see them again. I just stared at them dumbfounded. But yet here I was, frozen in the middle of a crowded food court, clutching a half-empty milkshake while my past stood across from me in designer shoes with luxurious bags in their hands as well as shopping bags. 

For a heartbeat, I thought I might have been hallucinating. I even hoped I was but I wasn’t. The time had come to be face to face with them. 

My mother was exactly as I remembered her, refined, elegant, with that cold, assessing gaze that could slice through anyone in a second. Time hadn’t softened her; if anything, it made her sharper. Janet, standing slightly behind her, looked almost startled. Her red hair caught the light, her lips painted in the same shade she used to steal from me when we were younger. She looked the same just more toned and more like a model that I knew she was. 

I recall when we were growing, she mentioned during dinner when my dad asked her that she wanted to be a model or marry rich and my parents applauded her. When I had shared that I wanted to be a fashion designer and maybe Janet could model my designs, they are stared at me and laughed out loud like I had said the most hilarious thing. 

“Can you even draw or design anything? I mean you have no sense of fashion sense…this daughter of mine.” My mum laughed and said with words full of mockery and my dad joined along with her. 

“And why would I ever wear anything you design?” Janet looked at me with confusion and chuckled. 

Now, they were both carrying designer bags which had my brand logo, ‘Prestige’ written on it and they were definitely going to be wearing my design. Life really does comes at you so fast. I’m so proud of myself. 

“Hannah,” my mother finally said walking towards me. Her tone wasn’t warm. It wasn’t even surprised. It was slightly high pitched just like every wealthy elite woman when they saw a person they weren’t too pleased to run across. 

“Mum,” I called out boldly, though my throat was tight. 

“You look…well. How have you been?” My mum asked, staring at me with disapproval and I just let out a breath. 

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