Chapter 69 ~ A report – A Turning Point in Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back by The every woman
In this chapter of Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back, The every woman introduces major changes to the story. Chapter 69 ~ A report shifts the narrative tone, revealing secrets, advancing character arcs, and increasing stakes within the Internet genre.
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.
Then I see it. The moment the memories come rushing back.
Her brow furrows. Her lips part. And then the question I've been dreading slips out of her mouth,
“Where’s the baby?”
Her voice is barely above a whisper, raspy from disuse, but it shatters me all the same.
I can’t answer. I can’t even breathe.
Athena tries to sit up, her body trembling with the effort. Panic flickers in her eyes as she looks around the room, searching. Waiting. Expecting.
And then, realization dawns.
“No,” she breathes. Her hand tightens around mine. “No, Alex. No, please.”
Her voice cracks, and something inside me cracks with it.
I should say something. I should tell her it’s going to be okay. But I can’t lie to her. I can’t take this pain away.
Tears spill down her cheeks, her body shaking as sobs wrack through her. She clutches at me, desperate, pleading for something I can’t give her.
“It’s nothing, just a routine medical report,” she says too quickly.
I level her with a hard stare. “Let me see it.”
“I-I can’t,” she stammers, holding the documents closer to her chest. “It’s confidential. I could get in serious trouble if-”
“Give me the report.”
Her eyes flicker with hesitation, but something in my expression makes her falter.
With a small, nervous exhale, she glances around again before finally handing me the paper.
My eyes scan the page, taking in line after line of the medical report. But after what I see, I wish I hadn't requested it.
My breath catches.
I read the words again.
And again.
A brutal, cold shock crashes through me like a tidal wave.
No.
But the words don’t change.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I turn to the nurse, my grip tightening around the paper. “What the hell does this mean?” My voice is hoarse, barely controlled.
She wrings her hands, looking like she deeply regrets letting me see it. “I—I don’t know all the details,” she admits in a hushed voice.
“But… the patient was trying to abort the child. It failed but had an effect causing the death of the baby at birth.”
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