How I Remarry My Ex-Wife by Alvin Humphre

Thiago was scrolling through the comments online, and the hate aimed at Quincey was off the charts. But no way could he wrap his head around Quincey throwing Whitney under the bus. At the office, the vibe was straight–up chilling Jeremy Quaker, his right–hand man, stood there stiff as a board, barely breathing. © NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“How have you not pulled those posts yet?” Thiago banged a thick pile of papers on the desk making Jeremy flinch. “Now Quincey’s name is mud, but worse, our company’s taking hits. Three clients bailed on us just this morning! You’re dropping the ball!” 

Jeremy kept his head down the entire time, afraid to meet his boss‘ bloodshot eyes. 

Finally, Thiago let up. Jeremy risked a peek up and stammered out, “Boss, I tried everything, but those influencers aren’t backing down. Threw money at them and everything, but they won’t delete squat.” 

“Then find hackers to hack their accounts!” yelled Thiago 

“You got it, boss,” Jeremy said, bolting out the door, but not for long. He came back looking like he’d seen a ghost. “Thiago, about the hacking, our tech guys say it’s a no–go. Whoever did this locked it down tight. We can’t touch it.” 

Thiago’s mind was racing. “Someone was ready for this. But Whitney? Nah, can’t be. Then he paused. ‘Or can it? Those videos… what if they’re legit? But then, why didn’t Whitney show them earlier? She must’ve chopped them up to throw Quincey under the bus. 

Thiago said nothing for ages, feeling utterly irritable. He grabbed his jacket and stormed off to the hospital. Quincey had some explaining to do. 

At the hospital entrance, he bumped into Megan, who’d been with Tatiana all night. She raced up to him. Thiago, those videos are totally Whitney’s doing. She’s out to get us. You can’t let her off easy!” 

Her statement only served to strengthen Thiago’s suspicions. Thiago nodded lightly without saying anything and walked straight into the hospital. 

In Quincey’s ward, he asked straightforwardly, “Is that video legit?” He used to think of Quincey like a kid sister. Hard to believe she’d pull something like this. 

“Video? What video? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Quincey denied it at once. 

Thiago wanted so bad to trust her. But the silence dragged on, and he asked again, “You sure you didn’t do it?” 

Quincey shook her head like she was in the dark. Then, all jittery, she blurted out, “Why would I go after Ms. Collins? It’s gotta be a fake video she made to set me up!” 

That got Thiago’s heart racing. He believed her, sure, but he wasn’t dumb. Quincey had gone from playing dumb to talking fake videos. None of it lined up. 

For an instant, Thiago was utterly disappointed in Quincey. The more he thought, the clearer it got that he’d been backing the wrong horse. 

A long while later, he turned to leave after shooting Quincey a cold look. 

‘Maybe I’ve got Whitney all wrong, he thought, heading for the door. 

That’s when Quincey caught on. She jumped out of bed and grabbed Thiago’s shirt, pleading. “Listen to me. Thiago. It’s not what it looks like. 

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Thiago stopped dead and gave her a long hard look. Just days ago, Quincey was too weak to raise a spoon. Now here 

she was, up and about, looking the farthest thing from sick. 

SING GIFT