The Ex-husband Wants to Get Power Every Day After the Divorce

Chapter 63: Taking You to the Hospital

Translator: 549690339

By the roadside, Michael Gallagher’s impressive motorcycle was parked.

Molly Walker handed a long work jacket to a frowning Michael from a nearby vendor.

She lowered her head, not daring to look at the large stain on his clothes.

Michael’s face was as black as coal; he threw the jacket aside in disgust: “I won’t wear it.”

“Um…” she stammered, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Molly bit her lip, her face full of distress.

It was rare for Michael to take this sort of vehicle out for a spin, so she clearly wasn’t “respectful” enough, and he was bound to be angry.

Michael looked at her tense little face, an accumulation of pent-up anger settled in his heart.

He took out an e-cigarette, lazily opening his eyelids. His slender, clean fingers held the cigarette, and the smoke twined around his blue veins.

Se??ch ?ew?o?e? / o?g o? ?oo?l?

“What shall we do now?” He pointed to the conspicuous stain on his clothes, a hint of coldness in the corner of his eyes.

Molly was at a loss for words for a moment.

She thought for a while, then decided to pull off her coat and hand it to him:

“How about using mine?”

A beige windbreaker, balled up in her hands.

Taking off her coat revealed her long pajamas, her distinct collarbone, her skin as creamy and white as milk.

It was a bit cold in the early autumn, and as the wind blew, he saw her slight shoulders shiver.

“I don’t want your clothes.” He waved his hand, noticing her pale face, and squinted, “Do you get dizzy on a motorcycle?”

Molly hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“How come you don’t get dizzy on an electric scooter?” he teased thoughtfully.

Molly smiled without changing her expression, “You can ride a motorcycle but not an electric scooter, so what if I get dizzy on a motorcycle? Who told you to drive so fast?”

His dark eyes swept over her.

Not young and pretty sharp-tongued.

Her face was unusually pale, making her brown eyes misty and frail.

“You don’t look good,” Michael said lightly, staring closely at her, “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Molly shivered and quickly waved her hand, “No need.”

If she really went to the hospital, any movement in her stomach would give it away.

Michael would most likely make her abort the baby.

Though she wasn’t certain, the child’s life or death shouldn’t be decided by them.

“It’s nothing, just motion sickness.” She feigned a relaxed smile, “Didn’t you say we’re going to get a divorce? Let’s go.”

There was clear resistance.

Michael’s brow furrowed, and he murmured in a low voice.

“We’re not far from the Civil Affairs Bureau.” He glanced at the navigation on his cell phone and led the way.

Molly clenched her lips, quickly following him.

Perhaps it was because she hadn’t had breakfast, she reacted more strongly than usual, but neither of them seemed to care about this small incident.

They quickly arrived at the Civil Affairs Bureau.

Mollys mood was complicated.

Three years had passed. She thought she would be free and easy, yet when the day came, her feelings were different.

“After we finish the formalities, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.” Michael’s voice was a bit hoarse, and there was no indication of his thoughts in his dark eyes.

“Yes, you’ll go on your sunny path, and I’ll go on my single-log bridge.” She smiled sweetly.

Michael wanted to say something more, but seeing her relaxed expression, he ultimately didn’t ask his question.

Molly took the stairs ahead of him.

“What’s the matter?” Seeing that he hadn’t followed for quite some time, she turned her head to ask.

The girl turned around, her dark hair flying. The large windbreaker wrapped around her tiny body, making her look even smaller and weaker.

Michael’s eyes were like rocks washed by rain, silent and glistening.

He walked up the stairs, beside her, his cold, metallic voice alluring: “If you’re not doing well outside, you can come back.”

Come back?

To where?

Going back to his and Isabelle’s home?

Molly lowered her head and smiled softly.

Come to think of it, besides how miserable she felt when Michael became determined to protect Isabelle after her return, he hadn’t done anything unforgivable in these three years.

Even though they had a secret marriage, he gave her dignity and let her focus on her work and studies without any worries. He never mistreated her financially.

His biggest mistake was not loving her.

But then, their marriage was a mistake in the first place. Love or no love, she shouldn’t have insisted on it.

She had been too presumptuous, thinking that marrying him could move him. But can feelings last for long just based on being touched?

Looking back, she probably wouldn’t do it again.

But she found some consolation in Michael saying those words.

At least he still had a conscience.

“Thank you,” she turned around and ran upstairs with small steps.

Watching her back, Michael’s gaze darkened.

It was different when they greeted each other. Signing and other procedures went smoothly.

When she got the divorce certificate, Molly felt somewhat surreal.

Three years later, she finally said goodbye to her love.

From now on, she could start a new life.

Michael clenched the divorce certificate, his eyes fixed on it. When Molly looked over, he quickly put it in his pocket.

“I have something else to do. I’ll leave first,” Molly smiled and waved goodbye.

She remembered the hospital was just nearby.

Michael didn’t say anything, his palm sweating as he slowly let go of the certificate.

The steps of the departing young girl were brisk, as if she had shed a heavy burden.

Biting down on her lips, the iron taste of blood finally brought him back to reality.

His cell phone vibrated with a message from his assistant, “Mr. Gallagher, we found the person behind the arson last time.”

Sunnydale First Hospital.

After the examination, Molly sat in a chair waiting for the results.

As she browsed her phone, a small hand patted her leg.

“Hey, Auntie, are you sick too?”

The boy had a rosy, spirited face, his big eyes rolling like abacus beads under his thick eyebrows. Although he seemed to be around three or four years old, he acted like an adult. His appearance seemed somewhat familiar.

Molly raised her eyebrows. She didn’t know whose child this was. Being called “Auntie” was a bit unpleasant.

“You should call me Aunt.’

“Why don’t you let me call you sister?” The little boy smirked mischievously. “The aunties at my house are as old as you.” Molly gasped in annoyance.

Kids these days could be so infuriating.

“Where are your parents? Ask them if you should call me ‘Auntie! or ‘Aunt’.” Today, she was determined to teach this brat a lesson.

“Why, are you trying to tattle?” The little boy glared. “My mom is busy getting married, and my dad is busy marrying my mom. They don’t have time. Auntie, you’re so petty, wanting to tell my parents such a small matter.”

Small matter…

Yes, it was a small matter. But she hated brats the most. If they were not disciplined from a young age, they would become a menace to society in the future.

After hearing his words, Molly immediately understood.

The kid’s parents hadn’t even gotten married yet, no wonder he had such an attitude.

She told herself not to get angry. Just then, she heard the nurse calling her name.

The results were out.

As she nervously stood up, the little brat grabbed something and ran outside.

It was her divorce certificate!

“Stop right there!”

Molly was so angry that she chased after him..

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