The unwanted wife’s unexpected comeback

Chapter 1388:

Roscoe drove her home before nightfall.

Scarlette asked, “What do you think of me?”

Roscoe smiled and replied, “You have no flaws.”

Distracted, Scarlette said, “I know you were forced to date me. You hide it well, but sometimes, when you zone out, I can tell you’re thinking of someone else.”

Roscoe was taken aback and said little.

As they neared the Ward family home, Roscoe stopped the car. His emotions were unclear.

Scarlette continued, “I also have someone I can’t forget. He’s annoying, but I used to like him, and I just can’t shake the memory.”

Roscoe shifted the topic. “Miss Ward, let me walk you in.”

When they got out of the car, Scarlette gathered her courage and took his hand.

Roscoe stiffened but ultimately didn’t refuse.

Scarlette felt nothing as she held his hand, so she leaned into him, seeking to feel something. Roscoe gently embraced her.

After a short pause, Scarlette mumbled, “You’re both men. Why does hugging you feel so different from hugging him?”

Roscoe whispered back, “Because you only like him.”

“I don’t like him,” Scarlette protested, her voice trembling with hurt.

“I hate him.” Roscoe patted her back comfortingly and said softly, “My beloved is also flawed.”

They held each other quietly for a while. Then, as Roscoe was about to let go, he noticed a black car parked under a large tree across the street. A man sat in the driver’s seat, his gaze fixed on them as if he wished to tear Roscoe apart.

Scarlette felt Roscoe pause and turned to look. She froze immediately when she saw who it was. Kenji had indeed come to find her.

Roscoe could immediately deduce the identity of the man inside the car from Scarlette’s rigid posture. “Is that the man you despise?” he asked softly, releasing his grip.

Scarlette stood paralyzed, her eyes fixed on Kenji through the car window as if time itself had frozen.

Neither Scarlette nor Kenji dared break the suffocating silence between them.

Scarlette’s heart waged a war within, hatred clashing against longing. Despite everything, she found herself searching Kenji’s face for signs of recovery, desperately hoping he’d step forward, acknowledge his wrongs, and beg for the forgiveness she wasn’t sure she could give. Yet, Kenji remained as still as a statue, his penetrating gaze holding hers captive. His eyes spoke volumes—love intertwined with fury, and beneath it all, a silent challenge.

They were locked in an unspoken battle of wills, each waiting for the other to crack first.

But Scarlette’s pride wouldn’t let her surrender. As the tension became unbearable, her composure shattered like glass. She whirled away, her fingers digging into Roscoe’s hand.

“Take me inside!” The command burst from her lips, loud enough to mask her trembling.

Though Scarlette directed her words at Roscoe, Kenji’s scorching gaze seemed to pierce through Roscoe like daggers.

“He clearly came here for you,” Roscoe said with a weary sigh. “Don’t you think you should at least acknowledge his presence?”

“I don’t know him,” Scarlette muttered.

The sudden roar of an engine shattered the moment. Kenji’s car thundered to life and peeled away, leaving only dust and unspoken words in its wake.

Scarlette’s face darkened like storm clouds gathering, her lips pressed into a razor-thin line.

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