Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back novel Chapter 68

ALEX

I don't know how long I've been pacing outside the hospital room. Minutes? Hours? Time doesn’t feel real when you’re forced to wait.

My hands clench into fists, then relax, only to clench again.

Every few seconds, I hear her.

Athena.

Her voice, raw with pain, broke through the walls that separate us. Each sound she makes feels like a blade against my skin, cutting deeper and deeper.

And I can't do anything about it.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. The sterile hospital air does nothing to settle the weight in my chest.

I’ve faced a lot of things in my life, fights, failures, and loss, but nothing prepared me for this kind of helplessness.

When I first stepped into that room, she told me to leave. And for the first time, I actually listened.

Because I saw it in her eyes. The anger. The frustration. The pain.

She didn't want me there.

And maybe... maybe she was right.

Maybe I don’t deserve to be in that room with her.

But I can’t leave, either. So I stand here, listening, waiting, feeling every damn second like it’s a lifetime.

The only comfort I have is that we will both be smiling after this. We are going to be parents and fuck, my heart is about to burst with joy.

The doors open and mum and dad rush forward. Mum kisses my cheek before placing my head between her hands.

“I'm so proud of you.” She kisses me again but I shake my head at that.

“Athena is doing all the work. What can I get her as a push present?”

I know it's not the best time but I've been thinking about it. It's just that everytime I want to go through with it, I'm hit with more pictures of her and Zayan and it makes my heart boil.

Earlier when she walked in, I had received a text from Arnold. I was going to ignore it until I saw what he had attached.

I was losing my mind and all I could see was red. So I canceled my plans to go through the options and rush home only to confirm that she wasn't home.

Another scream reaches my ears, bringing me back to the present.

“Son.” Dad taps my shoulder as a silent encouragement but it doesn't work even though I nod at him.

The nurse comes out to get something, and I seize the opportunity standing with mum next to me,

"How is she?" My voice is rough, almost unrecognizable.

"She's progressing," the nurse says with a small, tight smile. But it doesn’t reach her eyes.

"She’s in pain." I bite out.

“Alex.” Dad calls me, a silent Warning to watch my tone but I'm too frustrated to tone down.

"Labor is painful," mum says gently rubbing my arm, "But she’s strong and will need you after this."

Strong.

Yeah. I know that better than anyone. Athena is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean I want her to suffer.

"Can I-" My throat tightens. "Can I see her?"

The nurse hesitates, then shakes her head. "Not yet. But soon."

I nod stiffly, swallowing down my frustration as she disappears back inside.

I try not to think. Try not to imagine the worst. But the seconds drag, stretching into something unbearable.

And then-

The atmosphere suddenly changes.

The doctor keeps talking, but his words don’t register.

Athena carried our child for months. We made plans. Had a whole room ready. Gave him a name and counted every second,

And now…

There’s nothing.

I swallow, but my throat feels raw, like I’ve been screaming without realizing it.

"Can I see her?" My voice is hoarse.

The doctor nods. "She’s unconscious, but you can go in."

I force my legs to move, barely aware of Mum’s hand squeezing mine before I push through the doors.

Inside, the beeping of machines fills the quiet room. Athena lies there, pale against the sheets, her chest rising and falling steadily.

She looks… so tired. So fragile.

I step closer, my fingers trembling as I reach for her hand. It’s warm. But it feels wrong like she should be squeezing back.

Like she should be awake.

Like she should be smiling at me, exhausted but happy, holding our baby.

A sharp ache burrows deep into my chest. I sit beside her, my head falling forward, my grip on her hand tightening as I whisper,

"I’m so sorry, Athena."

Because I know this will break her even more than it has broken me.

My heart shatters when I look next to her bed. I didn't even notice the small bed that was meant to hold my precious prince.

I stand and walk over to it, and there he is. No pulse. Wrapped in a blanket as if left for me to confirm that my son was born dead.

Tears roll down my face as I feel a kind of pain that can't be explained.