Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife

Chapter 871:

“That’s not what I meant—”

Michael cut her off. “Don’t I deserve happiness? Can’t I reciprocate someone’s feelings for me? She’s gone, Fiona. Do I have to stay single forever to prove I loved her?”

Every question struck like a hammer, leaving Fiona frozen in place, her lips parting soundlessly.

“Answer me, Fiona. Would you only be satisfied if I had died with Lacey?”

Fiona snapped her head up, her voice sharp with desperation. “Michael, do you really believe Dulce actually loves you?”

“Whether her feelings are genuine or not is none of your concern.” Michael’s expression remained stoic, his tone cold. “And you have no right to dictate what happens with me.”

As Michael turned to leave, Fiona panicked, her voice rising.

“She told me herself that her feelings for you were just a fleeting crush, nothing serious! Michael, wake up! No one could ever love you the way Lacey did!”

Michael’s hand tightened around the stair railing, his knuckles whitening. “Is that so?”

The question pierced Fiona’s heart, but before she could respond, Michael continued, his tone unsettlingly calm. “If that’s true, then I’ll accept it.”

Without another word, Michael ascended the stairs. He returned moments later, now dressed, car keys in hand, his expression unreadable as he strode past Fiona without sparing her a glance. Fiona knew exactly where Michael was headed—he was going after Dulce. And she knew she was powerless to stop him.

As silence settled over the villa, Fiona felt an overwhelming sense of injustice on Lacey’s behalf. Even though Lacey was gone, Fiona had taken it upon herself to watch over Michael—for her sake. She wouldn’t let Dulce take Lacey’s place.

Michael drove swiftly, his eyes locked on the road, his determination unwavering.

He spotted Dulce walking down the street, pulled the car to a sudden stop, and stepped out with purposeful strides. Catching up to her, he grabbed her arm firmly.

“Let go of me! What are you doing?” Dulce snapped, her anger flaring as she yanked her arm back.

“I need to talk to you. Right now.”

There were words Michael had wanted to say the previous night, but Dulce had been drunk, and the timing wasn’t right. Now, if he didn’t seize this moment, he feared it would slip away forever.

Just like with Lacey—so many things had been left unsaid, so many regrets left to haunt him.

He had already endured the agony of regret once. How could he allow himself to face that torment again?

“Dulce.” Michael pressed Dulce against the car, his movements firm but not harsh. In less than a minute, Dulce’s initial resistance melted into bewildered silence.

Her breath caught as if she instinctively knew what Michael was about to say but couldn’t bear to anticipate it.

“I admit—my feelings for you might be influenced by how much you remind me of Lacey sometimes.”

Michael couldn’t bring himself to meet Dulce’s gaze, his eyes flickering to the ground. These words weren’t just for her—they were for Lacey, and for the fractured pieces of himself.

“But there’s another voice inside me—one that keeps telling me that if I let you leave, I’ll carry the same pain and regret I felt when I lost Lacey for the rest of my life.”

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