Dear Ex-wife, Marry Me novel Chapter 1883

While other kids his age might not grasp the concept of death, Nolan was different. He understood it all too clearly.

One night, after Fitch had one too many drinks, he pulled out a single printed photo of Zoey, wiping away tears over and over as he lay in bed. Nolan had woken up then, peering with wide, curious eyes at the woman in the picture. "That's your mommy," Fitch had told him, his voice a mix of sorrow and love.

Fitch had deleted all the photos of Zoey from his phone, every last one. This photo was the only one he had, begged from Maja after enduring her snide remarks. And it was the first time Nolan had laid eyes on his mother. He'd often wondered what she looked like, why she never came to visit him. Did she think she was too ugly? But the woman in the photo was clearly gentle and beautiful.

"Nolan, daddy's sorry. Your mommy... she's gone to a place far, far away and she's not coming back," Fitch had explained, the weight of the truth heavy in his heart. Nolan had seen enough TV to know what that meant. Buried in the ground, an eternal separation between heaven and earth. She really wasn't coming back. After that, Nolan never asked to see his mommy again.

But now, he insisted she was alive, just like the woman in the photo. When Fitch heard those words, his heart skipped a beat, followed by a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd forgotten about showing Nolan the photo while drunk, but Nolan remembered her face instantly. In Fitch's mind, Nolan had never met Zoey, so the boy must be confused.

Maybe the Haskins family was right; maybe it was time to find Nolan a mother figure. His withdrawal could very well be due to the lack of a woman's presence at home. Fitch's demeanor softened as he turned to the music shop owner with a business-like coldness. "Please deliver it to this address."

"Of course, Mr. Haskins. Take care," the owner replied with a smile. Lifting Nolan into his arms, the boy instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, his gaze still fixed on Henry. The music shop owner patted Henry's shoulder, beaming with pride. "Lucky you came back! You played beautifully. I hear you're seeing someone special?"

"Yeah, it's still early days, but she's a great person." "If you say she's great, she must be. It's about time, isn't it? A man your age should be settling down." Henry nodded, his eyes inadvertently drifting back to the little boy who was still watching him with those meaningful eyes.

Once in the car, Nolan spoke up again. "Mommy's alive. I saw her." Fitch, who was reaching for a tissue to wipe Nolan's fingers, froze at his words, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Who told you mommy was dead? She just went to a very far place," Fitch corrected gently.

"Daddy, I saw Zoey." This time Nolan didn't say 'mommy' but called her by her name, Zoey—a name Fitch had never mentioned in front of the child. The word seemed to choke Fitch, as if someone was squeezing his throat. It had been the most Nolan had spoken in a long time, a clear sign of his anxious heart.

Looking down, Fitch's hand stilled. "You know Zoey is your mommy?" Nolan nodded, pointing to the spot where Zoey had stood just moments before. Fitch's hand clenched as his face paled. "Do you know what Zoey looks like?" Again, Nolan nodded, pulling out the photo he'd been carrying.

Fitch's eyes dilated in shock. That photo was from their home in Greenfield, placed well beyond a child's reach, and now here it was in Zion City, quietly kept with Nolan all this time. Fitch's eyes reddened as he looked away, overwhelmed by a sudden, bone-deep pain that spread from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers.

Nolan, gazing out the window, whispered, "She looks the same... like mommy." Before Fitch could marvel at the number of words Nolan had spoken, he pulled his son into a tight embrace. Nolan still clutched the photo, careful not to crease it, a gesture that pierced Fitch's heart anew.