He Asked for a Divorce, Then Begged Me to Marry Him Again After I Moved On Chapter 10

He Asked for a Divorce, Then Begged Me to Marry Him Again After I Moved On Chapter 10

The New Year holiday provided a rare moment of relaxation.

My mother insisted on arranging a blind date for me.

“Claire! One terrible man shouldn’t make us lose faith in everyone!”

“I heard this gentleman is remarkably steady and respectable. Just meet him once.”

I sighed, sat up in bed, and ruffled my hair in annoyance.

His so-called steady nature seemed to express itself entirely through his wardrobe choice.

“Allow me to introduce myself, Ms. Bennett. I am a practicing attorney.”

“Should we get married, I expect you to adhere strictly to the following legal standards and

domestic rules.”

I returned home exhausted and asked my mother to reject the match immediately.

However, the attorney didn’t seem to receive the message.

For three consecutive days, he showed up at our apartment building carrying various gift boxes.

The moment I voiced my refusal, he turned around and sprinted into the elevator.

My mother and I stood speechless.

He even showed up on my first day back at work to offer me a ride.

His law firm happened to be near Bennett Technologies, so it was along his commute.

Wanting to set the record straight, I got into his car.

“Honestly, we aren’t a good match…”

The attorney interrupted, “I felt the same way initially. Fortunately, I’ve managed to convince myself.”

I was left speechless the entire ride.

Arriving at the office building, I pushed open the car door with a headache.

The attorney stepped out and pursued me.

“Ms. Bennett, we’ve known each other for days now. Giving me your contact information so we can

get to know each other better isn’t unreasonable, is it?”

I was out of options. “I apologize, but I believe I made it clear. We are not suited for a relationship.”

He replied, “True, you don’t fit my ideal image of a wife, but as I said, I’m working hard to

overcome that.”

I pressed my hand against my forehead, unable to speak.

“Claire.”

Ethan’s deep voice interjected.

He glanced at his watch and reminded me, “You’re going to be late.”

I turned quickly toward the building entrance.

The attorney called out after me. “You accepted my gifts and took a ride in my car. Asking for your phone number isn’t asking much, is it?”

Ethan stepped in, blocking his view of me.

“How much did you spend? I’ll transfer the money to you.

“Who are you? What’s your relationship with her?”

Ethan spun his phone in his hand. “A relationship closer than yours.”

I turned back around. “This is my employer.”

“I already returned your gifts to our matchmaker days ago, and I transferred the gas money to her

as well. She will send it to you.”

The attorney’s face turned pale. “You!”

Ethan and I walked into the building side by side.

He spoke in a casual tone. “Why not give him your number? Didn’t like his style?”

I responded professionally. “Work comes first.”

He was biting on a mint, responding breezily.

“Right.”