Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 50

The spacious VIP hospital room felt strangely harmonious, though there was an undercurrent of tension in the air.

Willow was sitting in the lounge area, chatting with Dorothy and Vincent. Not far away, Beasley stood silently at the sideboard, methodically peeling and slicing fruit.

He cut the pieces into neat, bite-sized wedges, arranged them carefully on a platter, and added a few small forks before bringing the plate over to his mother.

"Here, try some," he said, his voice low and rich, his expression so composed it was as if Willow didn't even exist in the room.

But as Beasley approached, Willow instinctively shifted a little farther away, not wanting to be too close—or to be caught up in his presence.

Beasley didn't seem to mind her subtle avoidance.

"Willa, have some fruit," Dorothy said with an easy smile, gesturing for Willow to join them. "It's very sweet."

Still, everyone knew the fruit had been sliced by Dorothy's son; Willow might not want to eat it.

Sure enough, Willow politely declined. "Thank you, Dorothy, but you go ahead. I need to get home and have dinner with my dad, so I should be heading out."

At the mention of Willow's father, Dorothy seemed a little moved. "How has your dad been lately? Mr. Windsor and I haven't seen him in a while."

Vincent smiled warmly, "That's right. The last time must've been at his birthday party, what, five or six months ago?"

Since Willow married Beasley, Klein celebrated his birthday twice every year—once according to the old family tradition with relatives and friends, and again on his actual birthday, when Dorothy, Vincent, and Beasley would gather at Klein's for a simple family dinner.

That's how it had been these past three years. But this year…

Both Dorothy and Vincent felt a quiet pang of regret.

Willow answered without missing a beat, "Yes, it's been a little while, but my dad's doing well. You and Mr. Windsor don't need to worry about him."

Dorothy visibly relaxed, her smile gentle. "Are you heading home now? Let me ask Jerry to drive you—it's not easy to get a cab at this hour."

"Thank you, Dorothy. I'll take you up on that. I'll come see you again soon." This time, Willow accepted Dorothy's kindness without protest.

Dorothy called Jerry with a few instructions, and soon enough, Willow said her goodbyes and left with him.

Only Beasley seemed lost in thought, replaying the words Willow had just spoken.

By the time she arrived, the apartment was filled with the delicious aroma of home cooking. Klein had prepared three dishes and a hearty soup; the whole place felt warm and inviting.

Willow had always been a quick study—she excelled at almost everything she tried, except when it came to cooking. No matter how hard she worked at it, she could never quite match her father's skill in the kitchen.

"Dad, your cooking is the best," Willow said as she sat down at the table, her face lighting up with childlike delight.

Klein looked at her with affectionate pride. "If you like it, just come over every day. I'll cook for you whenever you want."

Willow laughed, piling food onto her plate. "I can't let you work so hard, Dad. Dropping by for a meal now and then is treat enough for me."

They chatted and joked over dinner, sometimes commenting on the TV show playing in the background. Life felt peaceful, almost idyllic.

Moments like these had warmed Willow's childhood—back when her mother, Sylvia, was still alive. Though both parents had always been busy, they made sure to spend every weekend and holiday together, sharing meals and laughter as a family.

That's why Willow had always looked at marriage with such optimism, always longing for the same warmth.

Until she crashed headlong into Beasley, and learned that sometimes marriage could draw blood.