You're Just My Ex-Husband,My Lord-Chapter 46- Clark is back

Dave was so angry he felt like his lungs might explode, but the first name that popped into his mind was Leonardo.

Still, he quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn’t possible. Her entire life revolved around their child and him, and their intimate life was so harmonious that she wouldn’t have the energy to entertain another man.

Morrison pressed on,

"Do you have someone on the side?"

"No!" Dave denied curtly.

"Then that’s strange."

Morrison rubbed his chin, analyzing the situation like a detective.

"According to research, the primary reason marriages end these days is infidelity, followed by personality clashes. You two have been married for five years, so personality differences aren’t the issue."

Morrison’s words made Dave frown. After pondering for a moment, he finally spoke.

"Clark is back. She told me that when she left me back then, it was because my father pressured her."

But he immediately refuted the idea,

"Not that I’m thinking about getting back together with her. It’s just that she’s in such poor mental and physical health right now that I can’t bring myself to ignore her—"

Before he could finish, Morrison interrupted with a knowing look.

"That’s it. Clark was your first love. You’re still entangled with her, so of course, your wife is upset."

Dave frowned deeply.

"I haven’t abandoned my wife and daughter. And there’s nothing going on between Clark and me. Setting aside our past, as a regular friend, there’s nothing wrong with me helping her, is there? What’s there to be upset about?"

Morrison shook his head helplessly, frustrated by Dave’s almost nonexistent emotional intelligence and his arrogant attitude.

Yes, to Morrison, Dave was arrogant.

Laurent had treated him so well that he never even considered her feelings when making decisions. He did whatever he wanted, never sparing her a second thought.

This was classic behavior of someone spoiled by affection.

Dave might think there was nothing between him and Clark, that he was simply lending a hand. But to Laurent, this was an unforgivable betrayal.

"I think the real issue between you and Laurent is your unresolved entanglement with Clark," Morrison offered bluntly.

"Whether or not you agree is up to you."

These kinds of situations were often clearer to an outsider than to those involved. As a friend, Morrison could only say so much.

If Dave insisted he wasn’t in the wrong, there was no point in Morrison continuing the discussion.

"I’m heading back to play basketball. Care to join me?" Morrison stood up, stretching his limbs, and extended a friendly invitation.

Dave’s expression darkened. Morrison’s words had clearly implied that the downfall of his marriage with Laurent was his fault.

That was something Dave couldn’t accept.

In this relationship, he had never considered the possibility that he could be in the wrong. Deep down, he believed that whatever he did was justified, that Laurent had no right to interfere or be upset.

"I have other things to do."

With that curt remark, he stood up and left.

"Hey, you’ve been drinking!" Morrison called after him.

Dave didn’t respond. Two glasses of alcohol were nothing more than two glasses of water to him.

He got in his car and drove straight home.

When he stepped inside, the house was immaculate. Fresh lilies in a vase on the cabinet filled the air with their delicate fragrance. The washing machine hummed in the bathroom, and the comforting aroma of porridge wafted from the kitchen.

For a brief moment, Dave was disoriented—then unexpectedly delighted.

Without even bothering to change his shoes, Dave rushed straight into the kitchen.

"Laurent!"

He thought she had come back.

Laurent loved filling the house with fresh flowers, often picking up bouquets from the flower shop downstairs and placing them in elegant vases scattered throughout the home.

Over time, he had grown used to the constant presence of floral scents in the air.

Sometimes, just glancing up and seeing a vibrant bouquet in full bloom would instantly lift his spirits, brightening his mood.

Laurent also loved keeping the house tidy. Every corner of the home was always impeccably clean and organized, the floors polished to a gleaming shine at all times.

She enjoyed cooking too, often preparing an array of delicious dishes. On the evenings he didn’t have work engagements, he would come home to the comforting aroma of food wafting through the house, a warmth that soothed his tired body and mind.

But as he stepped into the kitchen, the figure he saw wearing an apron and busying herself was not Laurent—it was his mother, Tiffany.

Dave’s hurried steps came to an abrupt halt as he froze in place, awkwardly glancing at Tiffany.

"Tiffany?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

As he spoke, he turned to survey the apartment, realizing there was no sign of Laurent anywhere. It finally dawned on him—this was just wishful thinking. They were divorced.

"You’re living alone now, aren’t you? I was worried, so I came to check on you."

Tiffany deliberately ignored the flicker of hope and disappointment in his eyes.

"Look at this place! It’s a mess. I called a cleaning service to tidy up, threw the laundry into the washer, and sent the dry-clean-only stuff to the cleaners. Make sure you remember to pick it up."

Ah, the unconditional love of a parent. To Tiffany, a house without a woman’s touch simply didn’t feel like a home. She could imagine what her son’s living conditions must have been like these past few days, so she had come to help him clean up.

Yet Tiffany didn’t extend the same sympathy to her estranged husband, Daniel.

Between a man and a woman, love could be simple—when it was gone, it was gone, and one would no longer care about the other’s well-being. But the bond between a mother and her child was entirely different.

Blood ties were unbreakable.

After speaking, Tiffany turned back to her task of tending to the soup. Dave stood there in a daze for a moment, then went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water before settling on the couch.

Tiffany poked her head out of the kitchen again.

"When I was cleaning up, I noticed a lot of Laurent’s things. Those clothes—brand new and expensive. Ask her when she plans to come get them."

Tiffany knew Laurent well enough to understand she wouldn’t want those items. Laurent wasn’t someone who clung to material wealth or vanity. Otherwise, those expensive clothes wouldn’t still have their tags on.

Tiffany’s comment was more than a casual observation. She hoped it might provoke her son to reflect on his marriage with Laurent.

If he truly cared about her, perhaps he’d realize it wasn’t too late to win her back.

If he truly no longer loved her, then he needed to let go completely.

They were still young, and there was time to start over. But clinging to something until it was too late, only to regret it when everything was irreparable—what was the point?

Wasting the best years of their lives, letting the most passionate and fervent love fade into oblivion, and leaving only endless regret and remorse. It wasn’t worth it. She knew this all too well.

If only she had ended her marriage earlier, maybe she wouldn’t have spent her life feeling so aggrieved.

Back then, her reluctance to let go had been partly because of her two children. She had believed that no matter what, they deserved a complete family.

Looking back, she realized that was a mistake. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

That was why, when it came to Dave and Laurent, she hoped they would have the courage to sever ties cleanly.

Laurent had already moved on gracefully. If Dave no longer had feelings for her, Tiffany didn’t support him chasing her again out of pride or a bruised ego. Why not part ways and find their own happiness?

Hearing his mother’s words, Dave instinctively glanced at Laurent’s phone, which he had left on the coffee table. He had kept it turned off the entire drive home. Remembering it now, he picked it up and powered it on.

As soon as the phone turned on, notifications flooded in. He didn’t need to check to know that her friends were likely cursing him in their group chats. He had no interest in engaging with them.

He skimmed through the missed calls and message notifications. Most of them were from her close friends, and a few from Adeline—probably because they couldn’t reach Laurent and had turned to Adeline instead.

But none of that mattered to him. He only wanted to know if Laurent herself had tried to call him.

Her phone and luggage were still with him. Surely, she’d have to come back for them.

However, aside from messages from her friends, there wasn’t a single missed call or text from her.

She hadn’t reached out at all.

Dave frowned and tossed the phone back onto the coffee table. Tiffany emerged from the kitchen just in time to see Laurent’s phone and asked, puzzled,

"Isn’t that Laurent’s phone? Why is it here?"

Dave couldn’t exactly admit she had left it on his bed, nor could he bring himself to explain how he’d stopped her at the airport. So, he stayed silent.

Tiffany frowned, growing upset.

"I heard from Morrison’s mom that you stopped her at the airport. At first, I didn’t believe it, but now it seems true."

Tiffany and Morrison’s mother hadn’t known each other well at first, but thanks to Dave and Morrison’s friendship, the two women had become close friends over time.

Dave rolled his eyes in frustration. Morrison and his big mouth!

"Dave, what were you thinking?" Tiffany’s tone turned sharp as she scolded him.

Her anger was genuine—she thought his actions were utterly out of line.

"You two are divorced! What right do you have to interfere with her freedom? Never mind how unreasonable it is, but if you still care about her, this behavior will only drive her further away!"

"Who said I care about her?"

Dave snapped back, flustered, his voice rising in defensive indignation.

"I’ve never liked her, so why would I care? I’m just pissed that she filed for divorce first—I can’t swallow that humiliation!"

"You—"

Tiffany was so angry she was momentarily speechless. After taking several deep breaths to calm herself, she softened her tone and tried to reason with him.

"If you don’t like her, then can you stop interfering in her life? Let her find a good husband and live her own life in peace. Part amicably, can’t you?"

"Impossible!"

Dave shot to his feet, his face full of defiance.

"If I can’t be happy, then neither can she!"

A good husband? Over his dead body.

The very idea enraged him—she wasn’t allowed to move on, not while he was still reeling.