Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

lan woke with a start, as the evening shadows began to lengthen across his room. He rubbed at his temples, eyes tracing the

familiar cracks on the ceiling.

Pushing himself upright, he was greeted by a voice, “How are you feeling?”

It was Beck, his expression a mosaic of concern. Just as Beck braced for lan to revert to the mental capacity of a toddler, lan

exhaled softly and shook his head, “I'm fine. How's Maja?”

He could respond coherently and remembered Maja?

Beck was taken aback, then relieved.

“You're in Greenfield. Maja’s at Greenfield Gardens, resting up for the baby. Everyone in Cania has been searching for you, turning

every stone.”

lan’s gaze swept the hospital room, finding it empty.

“Where is she?”

Maja was his primary concern.

“She's resting. You're not in shape to see her yet. I haven't told her we found you. Her emotions can’t handle the excitement, and I

didn’t want to get her hopes up. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah.”

As lan answered, an itch began to crawl up his throat. It was unreachable, starting deep within him and surfacing like a terrible

whisper.

Instinctively, he scratched at his hand, but it was like scratching over a boot - unsatisfying.

A frown creased his forehead as he stopped and turned to Beck.

“What's happened to me?”

senses had already registered that at one point, he was close

about Queena'’s situation when lan was about

her blood. Lock her up and keep her away

a thousand times more potent than any drug, how could he

can handle it. Have

lead us to Philip.

healing wounds. Standing, he intended to pace the room, but the itching sensation ambushed

casting a faint

and

lan’s sweat was rolling

that lan hadn't lost his mind, but now he

maybe I should just have Queena brought

of blood made lan nauseous, let alone

go back to Greenfield Gardens. You'd

and she must be worried in her heart. It's not good for the child. Moreover, it's about tto

buy a baby carriage, and think of the baby's

into the car, but the moment he leaned back, his hospital gown was nearly soaked through

he spoke, “Givea couple of days. It's almost Christmas. I

meant not

that Beck was off. He kept going out, claiming he was grabbing drinks

been too anxious to

you find

racing

extinguished, she settled quietly on

up. I've stocked up on holiday goods

artists from the company.

She'd

to shop for the holidays, often feeling a pang

bedroom was fading,

the days dragged on, she dared not inquire further about

headache looming but not wanting to worry Beck, she

I'll go out for a bit, take a walk by

sympathy and gently patted