When My Ex-Husband Sent Me to Prison, I Found the Love That Set Me Free

Realizing I still needed time to find a new place and a job, I had no choice but to leave with him.

The moment we entered the hotel, Nolan immediately instructed the waiter, "Please take my wife to the reservation we made earlier."

Turning to me with a smile, he began unbuttoning his tailored suit. "Morgan, go sit down and rest. I'll be back soon."

After I sat down, the waiter came to pour wine, smiling as he teased, "Madam, your husband really treats you well. This table has the best view. He booked it a whole month in advance!"

He was just a waiter, so I couldn't be bothered to explain that we were divorced.

"Where did he go?" I asked.

The waiter immediately lit up with a smile. "Mr. Spencer has gone to the kitchen. He said you don't like outside food, that you won't eat anything he hasn't cooked himself. He brought a whole bunch of imported ingredients early this morning and he's probably already started cooking by now."

"Madam, in all my years working here, I've never seen a husband so devoted to his wife. You must be very happy, right? I won't disturb you anymore. I'll get back to work now. Call me anytime if you need anything."

After the waiter left, I fell deep in thought.

Happy? Perhaps once.

But after he sent me to jail five years ago, those fleeting illusions had long been ground to dust.

I've eaten all the food in prison. Compared to that, restaurant food was quite delicious.

Soon, Nolan returned to his seat, the smile on his face undisguised. "Try it. Does it taste … special?"

I stared at him coldly and let out a mocking laugh. "Special? Don't tell me you think it's special just because you cooked it? Nolan Spencer, there's something I never told you. Actually, your cooking … is terrible. If there's anything special about it, it's especially terrible."

Nolan's face instantly paled and he grew visibly flustered. "But … you used to say you didn't like outside food. I was afraid you wouldn't be used to it, so I … "

"You said 'used to.' Or do you think prison food tastes better than outside?" he asked, his eyes instantly reddened. "That's not what I meant. I just wanted to make you happy."

"There's no need, really no need." I smiled mockingly.

He looked genuinely hurt. Anyone seeing him would think he was the one who had just spent five years in prison. "You've really changed, Morgan. You never spoke to me like this before. You're still blaming me, aren't you?"

A long silence followed as we stared at each other.

He attempted to find the love I once had for him in my eyes, but when he realized there was only cold indifference, his composure shattered completely.

Just as he was about to speak, a familiar voice came from behind him. "Mr. Spencer, it really is you! I thought I was mistaken. Oh my, isn't this Morgan? You're out? Congratulations! My apologies for coming so unprepared. I didn't have a proper gift for you."

Josie, dressed in a limited edition Chanel suit, took a seat and naturally picked up my ex-husband's wine glass.

Nolan immediately grabbed her wrist and snatched the glass away. "Why didn't you tell me Morgan had contacted me? Josie, have I not made it clear? You are just my secretary. You have no right to interfere in my private life! Also, my wife is sitting right across from me. Do you really think it's appropriate for you to sit next to me?"

Josie soon looked terribly wronged. She stood up and began to apologize repeatedly. "Mr. Spencer, I'm sorry. I overstepped."

"Please let me explain. I've been very busy with work; I hardly have time to check messages from the prison. I knew Morgan wanted to see you, but by the time I saw the messages and could reply, several days had already passed. And it just happened to be when you were away on business, not in the city, so…"