Chapter 199: They’re Here for Me

The drive was an emotional whirlwind as I reflected on years of disputes with Luke and the surreal days I spent as a spirit after my death. When the car stopped, I clutched the steering wheel, unable to step out. A wave of confusion washed over me. Who am I? Chloe? A spirit? Zoey?

Suddenly, the car door opened, and a rush of icy wind and snow poured in. Philippa’s gentle voice followed. “Why are you still sitting here? I’ve been watching you from the porch for a while now.”

I looked up at her, my gaze clouded with bewilderment. Philippa’s warm hand rested on my forehead as she murmured, “No fever. Are you feeling unwell anywhere?” Her warmth pierced through the icy cold, pulling my scattered thoughts back into focus. That’s right—I had been reborn! The miserable Chloe of the past was gone.

I leaned into her embrace. “I’m fine. I just got lost in my thoughts for a bit.” My mother isn’t Kate anymore. My mother is this gentle woman before me.

She patted my head affectionately. “It’s been ages since you acted like this. It reminds me of how you used to be as a child.”

I teased, “I’ll always be a little girl in your arms.”

“As long as Mom’s here, my Zoey can always be my little girl.”

“Okay,” I grinned up at her. “Mom, I brought you something.” I went to the trunk and brought out the clothes I had prepared. “These are for you. Try them on.”

Unlike Kate, Philippa’s response wasn’t dismissive or cold. I had tried before to salvage my estranged relationship with Kate by buying her gifts, but she would either ignore them entirely or respond with half-hearted indifference.

Philippa smiled warmly. “Wow! My daughter is all grown up now. You even bought clothes for me. I’ll have to try them all on later.”

“Mom, you have such a great figure, but you dress too plainly.”

“I’m getting older; I have to dress appropriately for my age.”

“Getting old? No way! You look like you’re in your twenties. If we went out together, people would definitely think you’re my sister.”

“When did you learn to sweet-talk like that? By the way, why didn’t Carter come with you?” There was a hint of worry in her tone—she probably thought our marriage was in trouble.

“He’s been busy lately, but he’ll come by later.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Philippa took my hand and led me inside as I glanced around the villa. “Does Dad ever come by?”

“It’s better if he doesn’t. I can’t stand the sight of him.”

While helping her try on a dress, I casually asked, “Mom, have you ever thought about divorcing Dad?”

“Divorce?” Philippa’s reflection in the mirror revealed her dazed eyes. She was deeply rooted in her old-fashioned beliefs. Even in a marriage filled with unhappiness, she endured it for her family’s sake—and for mine. Despite the scars etched into her heart, the thought of leaving had never crossed her mind.

Standing behind her, I rested my hands on her shoulders. “Mom, take a good look at yourself. You’re so beautiful. You are only halfway through your life. Do you really want to spend the rest of it trapped in the pain of the past?”

I understood her struggle—I had lived it myself when the Bolton family dictated my future. From the moment I got engaged to Luke, I saw myself only as the future Mrs. Bolton. I sacrificed my individuality, letting the interests of two families dictate my every move. I lost my identity as Chloe Sander, buried beneath the roles imposed on me. Sadly, it took death and rebirth for me to finally understand this truth. Philippa, too, was shackled by societal expectations placed on women. Those chains left her bruised and broken, yet she remained trapped, unable to move forward.

“Divorce? Is that even possible for me…?” A flicker of uncertainty appeared in Philippa’s eyes.

I led her to the dressing table, gently shaping her brows with an eyebrow pencil and applying a touch of lipstick. Philippa’s features were naturally striking, and with just a little touch-up, she exuded elegance and charm.

“Mom, look at how stunning you are. You’re such a beautiful woman. To waste your life away in loneliness for a man like Bill is such a waste.”

Philippa bit her lip. “But the Wilcher family hasn’t been doing well in recent years. Your uncle lacks the talent for business, so we’ve been relying on the Gardner family for survival. If I divorce him, the Wilcher family will collapse. Your grandparents and uncle’s family won’t approve.”

“Bill knows your worries. That’s exactly why he feels no fear of you divorcing him and does whatever he wants. Mom, Carter said that if you want to divorce, he can help with the legal process and also support the Wilcher family.”

“But you’ve only just married him. It’s too much to ask of him…” Philippa said with a frown. Kind-hearted people always prioritize others, neglecting their own needs. She reminded me so much of the old me. I couldn’t go back and save who I used to be, but I could save her now.

“Mom, forget everyone else’s expectations and ask yourself—do you want to divorce Bill?”

Philippa gazed at her reflection in the mirror. It had been so long since she had lived for herself. Her lips quivered as she whispered her answer. “I…”

The door suddenly opened at that moment, and Bill appeared, dressed in a suit. “Darling, I’m back. Oh, Zoey’s here already?” His words instantly shattered the courage Philippa had finally gathered.

“Darling, is dinner ready? Carter’s already here. We should let him try your cooking later.”

The mention of Carter made Philippa jump to her feet. “I’ll go check on the food in the kitchen.” As she walked past Bill, his gaze lingered on her momentarily, admiring her figure. I could tell it was the possessiveness of a man.

After Philippa left, Bill shot me a cold glance. “Zoey, as our child, you should stay out of matters between me and your mom. You think you’re helping her? You’re only harming her and the Wilcher family. Do you want to make her an orphan by pushing for a divorce?”

Men like Bill have this ridiculously inflated sense of pride, thinking that the extra weight down there makes them masters of the universe, and that every woman should kneel to their masculinity. Luke, Ashley, and Bill were all like this.

“Mr. Gardner, who gave you the idea that women can’t live without men?” I walked slowly toward him. “Don’t worry, this marriage is definitely ending. Want to bet whether Mom will be happier without you?”

“Zoey, you’re my daughter. Who gave you the courage to speak like that to your father?”

“Mr. Gardner, do you think just because you contributed a little sperm to my birth, I should fulfill my duties as a daughter? Sorry, that’s not happening. This marriage is ending for sure!”

Hearing my retort, he smashed one of my mom’s perfume bottles in a fit of rage. I scoffed. “You cheat, have a bad temper, and often resort to violence—why should my mom stay married to such a scumbag?”

Without looking at him again, I walked straight downstairs.

Carter was sitting in the living room, holding a file in his hands. When he saw me coming downstairs, he put it away and looked at me gently. People say that nine out of ten men are bad, but Carter was the exception.

“Zoey.” I felt much better seeing him. “Did you just get here?”

“Yeah.”

Philippa came out of the kitchen with a fruit platter and enthusiastically offered it to us. “Carter, this is your first visit to our home, and I wasn’t sure about your food preferences. I hope you enjoy the food I’ve prepared.”

“I’m not picky. Anything is fine.”

“Then please help yourself to the fruit. The main dishes will be ready soon.”

People say, “Familiarity breeds affection.” That was certainly true for Philippa and Carter. The more Philippa looked at her son-in-law, the more she liked him.

“Mom, let me help you out.” I rolled up my sleeves, ready to go into the kitchen. But Carter spoke up. “Damian can cook pretty well. I’ll have him help in the kitchen.”

“No need, I can—”

“It’s fine. We’re all family now,” he said, gesturing for Damian to go into the kitchen. I mentally gave Carter another point. He truly was the definition of a good man. He didn’t just tell me to rest; he took action to make sure I could. He took my hand. “You sit and rest. Let Damian handle it.”

“Alright. How about I peel some grapes for you?”

“Sure.”

Philippa watched our interaction with a gentle smile on her face. As if trying to prove that what I had just said wouldn’t happen, Bill picked up a piece of kiwi and offered it to Philippa fawningly.

“Darling, here, have some kiwi.”

“I hate kiwi the most.” My mom shot him a glare. Oops, it seemed like he had barked up the wrong tree.

“Then tell me, what fruit do you like…”

Before he could finish, the sound of two people talking came from the doorway. “Philippa, I haven’t come to warm your house since you moved in. You don’t mind that, right?” The Hypocrita walked in with Hypocrita Jr. trailing behind her. That’s just perfect. Why do they have to come at this time and ruin such a happy moment? Ugh!

“You’re not welcome here, so get out!” I snapped, glaring at them.

Sadie swayed her hips as she walked in. “Dad, look at Zoey. She is so rude!”

Bill patted her back affectionately. “We’re all family. You need to get along with Zoey and Philippa.” That simple mention of “family” seemed to touch a raw nerve with my mom, so she disappeared into the kitchen to get away from the scene. However, Sadie didn’t stop her attempt; she clearly came with a purpose today. With a glance from Monica, Sadie picked a grape from the fruit platter and offered it to Carter with a flirty smile.

“Carter, do you like grapes? Shall I peel one for you?”

Uh-oh, Sadie and Monica are coming straight for me. They want to steal my man! Do they have some kind of psychological disorder where they couldn’t survive without stealing someone else’s man?