My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 259 Sandra’s tightly wound nerves finally gave way, and tears streamed down her cheeks, unstoppable and unrelenting.

She wasn’t sure if it was fear, relief, or heartbreak, but the dam inside her had burst, and no matter how much she tried to hold it in, the tears kept coming.

Daxton Garcia sat down beside her, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently rested it on her shoulder.

His voice was soft, comforting.

“It’s okay now.

I’m here.”

Those simple words broke her even more, and her sobs turned louder, rawer.

Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, Sandra buried her face and cried, her body trembling with the weight of emotions she had held back for far too long.

She had always been lucky—someone had always come to save her when she needed it most.

But it had never been Elijah.

No matter how much she told herself not to expect anything from him, in moments of danger, his face was the one she instinctively thought of.

And every time, she was left disappointed.

Eventually, the faint spark of hope she harbored deep in her heart dimmed, then died entirely, leaving only darkness in its wake.

As Sandra cried, Daxton sat silently by her side, his presence steady and unyielding, like an anchor in a storm.

After what felt like an eternity, her sobs quieted.

Embarrassed, she wiped her face and looked up at him.

“I’m sorry for making such a scene.”

Daxton handed her a tissue, his smile kind and unassuming.

“It’s nothing.”

Daxton had been a junior in college when she was a freshman.

he caught a girl stealing

passing by and saw the scene, and she mistook

heavy hardcover books

hit their mark, leaving him with a

patiently explained the situation to her

encounter was the

for books and an uncanny ability to challenge each

they became friends, Daxton graduated early and earned a scholarship

Life happened.

her own troubles, lost touch with him over the

Daxton didn’t ask her what had happened to bring her to this

said,

on a yacht trip, but the weather turned bad, so

knew that trips like those often involved gambling in international waters, a playground for the rich

never known Daxton

she had been aware, he came from modest means and

she regained her

stomach growled, breaking

She flushed, mortified.

up, a small smile tugging

I can whip up a plate of spaghetti

“Thank you,” Sandra murmured.

He chuckled softly.

no need to be polite with me.” He paused at the door,

a female staff member changed

was still as kind and generous as she remembered him to

nodded, appreciating

he left, she walked

the wind and waves battering

held steady, the only sign of the turbulence

was a

at surviving was

docked,

of standing

to their demands