Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

After leaving Mark's place, Shirley received a call from her dad.

"Shirley, Mark said you two had a row. Try to be a bit more understanding, will you? The guy's swamped with lab work. Can't you just sit down and talk it out? You're not one for arguments, what's gotten into you?"

Shirley felt a lump in her throat and couldn't hold back any longer.

"Dad, this is between us younger folks. Please, stay out of it. You said it yourself, I don't like arguing. So, clearly, he's the one at fault."

"What fault can Mark possibly have? We've known the lad for years. Don't be so headstrong."

Tears welled up in Shirley's eyes. "So, without knowing anything, you've decided it's my fault, right?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end before her father spoke again, "I used to tutor Mark myself. Even back then, he was a good kid. I know him well. Just go easy on him."

Shirley hung up, marking the first time she ever hung up on an adult.

Back at her rented apartment, her head was throbbing with pain.

The letter was still lying on the coffee table. After some thought, she sent it to Mark.

"Remember the kid we met in Maplewood during our club internship? He's run into some trouble."

They had just had an unpleasant argument, and her reaching out was a peace offering.

Indeed, there was no need for the argument. Mark had no intentions towards Jessica. If things ever crossed a line in the future, she could always break up then. There was no need for suspicion now. But Mark's reply came swiftly.

"After leaving Maplewood, our club's mission was over. You chose to sponsor that kid. Shirley, sometimes you're too saintly. You're not exactly rolling in dough, yet you're dishing out $2,000 every six months. I worried you were trying to 'keep up appearances.' Yes, the kid's situation is sad, but the world's full of sad stories. Take care of yourself first."

Reading his message, Shirley burst into tears.

Her family was comfortably middle-class, not poor by any means. She had earned a decent amount of money translating online and teaching abroad with her professor, saving up a tidy sum. Sponsoring a child was no issue for her, but in Mark's eyes, it seemed like she was just pretending to be more generous than she could afford.

Thinking back, when she first

suggested sponsoring the child, the other club members had looked

uncomfortable. After all, none of et

them had offered to sponsor, and Shirley's proposition might have seemed like moral grandstanding.

But she genuinely felt for the kid, tall and thin, with good grades.

She stared at her phone for a long time, then, mustering some courage, requested a couple of days off from her professor, went downstairs, and drove off.

As she merged onto the highway, Mark sent another message.

"Shirley, I want you to join my family's company after you graduate. My dad's grooming me to take over, and he's willing to pay you $10,000 a month. You won't have to do much, just show up. You want to be independent, and I support that. You don't have to be a stay-at-home wife. So, let's stop this argument."

Shirley didn't reply but pressed the accelerator harder.

After driving through the night, she arrived at the entrance to the mountain village she had sponsored.

The road leading up was newly paved but muddy from recent rain.

Perhaps it was life's recent knocks that drove her, but that letter gave her a sense of purpose.

After another two hours on

mountain roads, she reached the village. It was rare to see outsiders here, so her arrival immediately drew the attention of kids in patched-up clothes.

She remembered where the village chief lived and went straight there.

The chief seemed flustered at her arrival.

Shirley didn't understand the local dialect, so she had brought along a village representative from the county town.

The representative was polite. "Ms. Dorothy wants to know why the child she sponsored last year isn't attending school. She's come all the way here to check."

The chief looked evasive but eventually led them on.

The recent rain had turned the path into a muddy mess.

Standing in front of the dilapidated door, Shirley heard a child's cry and a woman's scolding from inside.

"Dammit, Abner, can't you see the kid's crying? Stop doing your homework and come here. I feed you, I clothe you, and this is how you watch the kid?"Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.