Dear Ex-wife Marry Me (Maja and Ian) novel Chapter 1911

Waking up in the pitch-dark room, Zoey furrowed her brows in confusion. She was certain she hadn't turned off the light before bed. Who did?

Springing up from her bed, her gaze darted towards the single armchair beside her bed. There, amidst the dim glow from the streetlights outside, she recognized the figure seated in the chair.

It was like a lightning strike in her brain. After running away for a day, she woke up to see Fitch?

Quickly, she reached for the lights, and there he was, Fitch, sitting on the armchair, though he looked a bit under the weather.

Instinctively, Zoey clutched the sheets, a wave of fear rushing from her feet to the top of her head.

Fitch remained silent, a cigarette dangling from his lips, unlit, as if he just needed something to chew on.

The cigarette was all bent out of shape from the pressure of his teeth. Seeing Zoey's shoulders shudder, he lowered his gaze, toning down his imposing demeanor.

"How about some oatmeal? It's still hot," he said, gesturing towards a small pot on the table nearby.

Only then did Zoey notice the pot, still keeping the oatmeal warm. Standing up, carrying the weariness of a long journey on his shoulders, Fitch seemed to have just arrived.

He took the bowl, stirred it with a spoon, and sat beside the bed. "Eat something now that you're awake."

For a moment, Zoey couldn't quite figure him out. He didn't seem angry; rather, he appeared heartbroken.

Some people wear their heartache outwardly, crying it out loud. But Fitch internalized his sorrow, seemingly calm but internally in turmoil.

Nolan was much the same, though as a child, he still knew to shed tears.

Feeling hungry, Zoey opened her mouth to the oatmeal spoon-fed to her. Fitch sighed in relief after feeding her, then took a tissue to wipe her mouth.

Now, with his back to her, he carelessly took off the dripping shirt, exposing the scars in a flash. It seemed he had almost forgotten about these marks, tossing the shirt aside nonchalantly.

Zoey wanted to ask something, but then there was a knock at the door. "Mr. Haskins, your clothes are here."

Fitch walked over, brought in the clean clothes, and shut the door behind him. Zoey didn't know how to react until he went to take a shower. Coming out with his wet pants changed, he seemed even more inscrutable.

The atmosphere felt off as he asked, "Still feeling cold? Are your feet still cold?"

"Not anymore." Her voice was a murmur, watching him sit on the edge of the bed, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"Zoey, you win. I won't push you anymore. I'm scared."