Ex-husband’s Regret

Although we didn't usually live here, the housekeeping staff kept everything immaculate, with not a speck of dust in sight. Even the bedsheets and covers were changed every three days. There was a vintage- style wedding photo hanging on the bedside, touched up by a top-notch editor without a trace of Photoshop.

When Ryan sat on the bed, I attempted to withdraw my wrist again, but he held on tight, furrowing his brow. "You won't even help me apply medicine before the divorce is finalized?"

"I'll get the first aid kit. What else would I use to wipe it for you?"

Helpless, I had to compromise. Only then did he let go, relaxing his grip. "Go ahead."

I found the first aid kit in the drawer, took out the lodine and ointment, and walked over to him, standing

in front of him. The wound on his forehead was shocking, and I gently lowered my head, one hand supporting the back of his head, the other wiping away the blood stains.

Grandpa had really laid into him; as soon as I wiped away the blood, new blood seeped out. It looked painful. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, it hurts a lot."

He looked up at me, his eyes as clear and penetrating as obsidian. My heart softened, and as I disinfected the wound by blowing on it, he sighed with satisfaction, "It doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you, wife.” "We're getting a divorce..."

"I'm just used to calling you that."

He looked somewhat desolate, lowering his eyelashes, which were long and covered his eyes, giving him an innocent look. My heart ached a bit too. "It's okay. We'll gradually adjust."

Adjustments were possible. Just like how I had gotten used to rolling over in bed every night to hold onto his waist, to curl up in his embrace. But lately, when I reached out, I would find nothing and wake up in the middle of the night, feeling empty and dazed.

Many people said that the hardest part of breaking up was not separating, but adjusting to life without each other. When you called out in an empty house, there would be no one to answer.

But fortunately, time was the best healer. Eventually, it would pass.

Ryan fell silent for a moment and suddenly asked, "Must it change?"

"Otherwise, Ryan, we'll both start new lives. You will, and so will I.”

I unscrewed the ointment and helped him apply it, then put on a new bandage. "Okay, the medicine is applied."

As I finished speaking, I straightened up and turned to leave. Grandpa was probably still angry and needed to be persuaded.

"Finished? Where?"

Ryan asked, and in my puzzled expression, he pointed to his back and stared at me without blinking.

"It hurts on my back too. Grandpa was really furious today, and if it weren't for the fact that

der is a

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crime, he might have killed me."

"Grandpa was just angry for a moment. How could he really hit you hard?"Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

1 pursed my lips.

He began unbuttoning his shirt, moving slowly because his shoulders were injured too. "You'll see."

"Wait a minute."

I still felt that we should have some boundaries. "This Isn't quite appropriate, Ryan. I'll call Jessica to help you with the wounds on your back."

"Why isn't it appropriate?"

"We're getting divorced, Ryan. We're just waiting for the divorce certificate. Shouldn't there be some boundaries?"

"But we're only getting divorced, not divorced yet."

He suddenly reached out his long arm, and his slightly cool fingers slid into my collar, hooking out a necklace at the collarbone, staring at the ring above, eyes gleaming. "See, you can't let go either."

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