Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 119

Alexander’s POV

The park was alive with laughter, squeals, and the carefree chaos of kids running wild. I watched Ethan and Emma dart through the grass, their laughter sounding like melody to my ears. This park, the busiest in the city, was flooded with families, couples lounging on picnic blankets, and other parents watching from benches scattered around the open field. It was peaceful, almost picturesque, and for a moment, I could let ny guard down and enjoy it.

was just me and the kids. They seemed more excited than Christiana was out shopping with Grace, her P.A., and for once, ever to have my undivided attention. Ethan and Emma played with a group of other children nearby, their energy uncontainable as they tore through the park, laughter ringing out every few seconds. I caught myself smiling..these moments were rare, and I wanted to hold onto every second of it.

Just then, a scream pierced through the air, high–pitched and panicked. My entire body went rigid. Parents around me snapped to attention, their eyes darting toward the sound. I whipped my head around, dread sinking into my stomach as I spotted the crowd forming, children clustering together and chattering nervously.

Then I saw her…Emma…standing back, her face drained of color. Her hand was over her mouth, her wide, terrified eyes fixed on something in the middle of the group.

“Emma!” I called, striding forward. She didn’t respond, didn’t even look my way. My heart pounded as I tore through the crowd of parents and kids. And then I saw him, Ethan, crumpled on the ground, clutching his stomach, his face twisted in pain, green veins bulging along his neck.

“Oh, God,” I breathed, feeling an icy chill rush through me even as my skin burned with panic. “Ethan!” I dropped to my knees beside him, cupping his face. He was sweating, his skin clammy, and his eyes were glazed, unfocused.

“Dad….” His voice was barely a whisper, strained as he tried to breathe through the pain. His fingers clenched, grabbing onto my arm, his grip so tight I felt the desperation in it.

“I’ve got you, son,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt inside. “I’m right here.”

I scooped him up, lifting him into my arms as carefully as I could. But he whimpered, pressing his face into my shoulder, his small body trembling: I felt a spike of anger and fear surge through me. I couldn’t stand to see him like this, so vulnerable, so helpless.

Parents and security guards crowded around, murmuring, watching. I didn’t have time to answer their questions. I pushed past them, my focus solely on getting Ethan to the car. “Move,” I snapped, not caring who was in my way. I could feel every second ticking by like a hammer pounding against my chest.

“Emma!” I shouted, catching sight of her just as we reached the car. She was sobbing, her face blotchy, eyes swollen, fear radiating from her tiny body. One of the bodyguards ushered her in beside me, her little fists clenched as she looked at her brother, terrified.

Her voice was a broken wail, tears streaming down her face as she clutched at my

body twisting in pain, and my heart broke a little more. “Ethan, stay with me,” I murmured, my hand on his forehead, feeling his rapid,

my voice calm, “Ethan’s going to be fine. I need you to stay brave for him, okay?” But the words sounded hollow even to my

small hands shaking as she clung to my arm, her

whispered, brushing a hand over her hair. I felt torn, helpless between them. Ethan’s pain, Emma’s panic, it was

09:37 Mon,

Chapter 119

as I held Ethan close. I forced myself to breathe, to keep my grip steady, even

the car screeched to a halt outside the hospital, I didn’t waste a second. I threw the door open, clutching Ethan tightly in

over with a stretcher, their faces set with the kind of grim efficiency that both reassured and

up to monitors, calling out his vitals. I could only stand there, helpless, as they whisked him down the hallway, the sound of wheels on tile echoing, punctuated by his soft groans. Just as they were disappearing through a set of double doors, Ethan’s hand slipped from my grip, his fingers

onto my shirt. I looked down, meeting her tear–filled eyes, wide and pleading as she clutched her stuffed bear close. She was shaking, her small body pressed against my leg like she’d

Ethan,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at the now–empty hallway where they’d taken her twin. Her tears spilled over, and I knelt down, pulling her

feeling like my heart was breaking right there in the hospital corridor. “The doctors are going to help him,

digging into my shoulder, but nothing could match the helplessness clawing at my own chest. Seeing Ethan like that, unable to do anything but watch

weight of her head on my shoulder

the doors opened, and a doctor in scrubs approached, his expression serious, brows drawn tight. He nodded at me, his

ruptured appendix. It’s very serious. We need to operate within the next twenty–four hours to prevent further

connect the dots. “A… a

ruptures, it releases bacteria into the abdomen,

over. This was my son, my little–Ethan, lying somewhere beyond those doors, facing something I had no control over. I glanced down at

be okay?” I forced out, my voice rough, the question hanging in the air,