Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife

Chapter 1115:

And worst of all, she realized that moments ago, another girl had been this close to him. That thought alone sent jealousy surging through her veins.

Determined, she pushed against him, but the more she struggled, the less he moved.

Lucas’ gaze darkened. For the first time, she felt fear and tension, the kind of pressure from a man.

In that moment, he was no longer just a childhood friend to her, no longer just the boy she had grown up with. He was a man.

“Let go of me!” she demanded.

“Not until you tell me why you’re angry.”

Molly’s face burned with frustration, her emotions waging war inside her. “I’m not angry!”

Lucas tilted his head, watching her intently. “Then you’re happy for me to be with someone else?”

“I…” She almost blurted out her real feelings, but at the last second, she changed course. “Of course, I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?”

A smirk tugged at Lucas’ lips. “Liar. You’re jealous.”

Molly’s pulse skipped. Her thoughts, once a tangled mess, now unraveled into sheer panic. “I am not! I don’t even like you, so why would I be jealous?”

Lucas didn’t hesitate. “But I like you. I like seeing you jealous over me.”

Molly’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the world tilted. “What did you just say?”

Lucas released her, his expression unwavering. “I like you. Are those words so hard to understand?”noveldrama

Molly stood frozen, her heart drumming against her ribs. She couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. This had to be some kind of joke. How could he say he liked her after letting another girl kiss him?

Her voice wavered. “Are you just messing with me?”

Lucas exhaled a small, humorless laugh. “If you won’t admit it, then I will. I like you, Molly Miller. I’ve liked you since we were kids. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

“You’re talking nonsense!”

Molly clutched her head, as if trying to block out his words. She didn’t know whether to cover her ears or his mouth.

Without a word, Lucas took her hand and led her into his bedroom. He reached for a worn, yellowed painting and unfolded it before her.

“Who’s in this picture?” she asked.

“It’s you.”

“No!” Molly frowned. “It’s clearly Aurora!”

“I painted it myself. Wouldn’t I know who I was drawing? I wanted to capture the dress you were wearing that day, but I didn’t have the right color, so I used Aurora’s instead. But while I painted, my eyes never left you.”

Molly felt as if she had stepped into a dream. The memory of that warm afternoon surfaced—the golden light glistening over the lake’s surface, the scent of fresh paint mingling with the air.

Her throat tightened. Her eyes stung. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Lucas reached for a tissue and gently wiped away her tears. “I did. I told you many times. But you never believed me. You’re stubborn, Molly. You get so caught up in your own thoughts that you refuse to hear mine.”

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