Dear Ex Wife Please take me back by The Every Woman

Chapter 69 ~ A report

ALEX

The room is too quiet. The kind of silence that feels like it's pressing down on me, suffocating, heavy with things unsaid. The machines beep in slow, steady intervals, a cruel reminder that life moves forward even when it feels like it shouldn't.

Athena hasn't woken up yet.

I haven't moved since mum had them take Rayen. I couldn't find the strength to bury my son with his mother still unconscious

So I decided to wait until she wakes up so we can figure this out together.

I should say something. Do something. But all I can do is stare at her, at the way her eyelashes rest against her cheeks, at how fragile she looks against the hospital bed.

I don't want her here. I want her resting in my bed back at home while I rub her feet even though I know it will be a drop in the ocean.

My grip tightens around her hand as if holding on will somehow keep her from slipping further away from me. As if it will undo what's already been done.

I never knew that childbirth was this risky. I have taken it for granted, knowing I had the best doctors and the best hospital in the country. Having gone through this with all the money in the world, it makes me wonder how those with barely anything feel.

"I should open you a foundation dedicated to pregnant women with you leading it." I whisper as I brush a strand of hair away from her face.

The door opens, but I don't look up. I know it's my mother by the way she moves, soft steps, hesitant, as if she's afraid to disturb the quiet. She comes to stand beside me, her hand brushing my shoulder.

"Alex," she says gently. "You should get some rest."

I shake my head. "I can't."

She doesn't argue. Instead, she pulls up a chair, sitting beside me in the silence.

"I'll be back. Let me check in on your grandmother." Mum says as she kisses my hair before walking out.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours.

Then

A small shift.

Athena's fingers twitch beneath mine.

My heart lurches.

Her breath changes, her eyelids fluttering, and then, slowly, she opens her eyes.

At first, she just stares at the ceiling, dazed, disoriented. Then her gaze moves, landing on me.

For a second, there's nothing. Just quiet recognition.

The moment

furrows. Her lips part. And then the question I've been dreading

"Where's the baby?"

raspy from disuse, but it shatters

same.

I can't

sit up, her body trembling with the

looks around the room, searching. Waiting.

And then, realization dawns.

tightens around mine.

cracks, and something inside

say something. I should tell her it's going to be okay. But I

take

her body shaking as sobs wrack through her. She clutches at me, desperate, pleading for something I can't give

cries. "Tell me

all I can do is hold her. Hold her as she breaks apar in my arms, as the weight of

so sorry," I whisper, over and over,

I can reach.

isn't enough. It will never be

our baby

don't know how to

this when I eventually pull away so I can

in charge

step into the hallway,

is a body

of grief and

S on autopilot as↓

way toward

Then, out of nowhere,

A sudden impact.

bet

my

nearly sending a stack of patient

ground.

so sorry," she rushes out, kneeling

I mutter, barely

scoops up the documents, my gaze snags on

one

Athena Dawson.

My stomach clenches.