Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back novel Chapter 80

ATHENA

Looks of pity.

I detest them—and I'd rather not receive any.

They feel like quiet judgments wrapped in sympathy. Like everyone’s saying, “poor Athena”, without ever opening their mouths.

Noah and Sloane have been so quiet, I didn’t even realize they were still in the room.

It’s only when I feel the warm weight of a jacket settle over my shoulders that I notice Noah beside me.

He doesn’t say much. He never does when I’m hurting. But the way his eyes soften, the way he avoids looking at Alex’s direction, says everything.

He's angry and is having a hard time keeping that in check.

“Let me drive you home,” he murmurs.

“I’ll come with you,” Sloane says, stepping forward. But Noah shakes his head.

“Stick around. Keep me updated.”

A flicker of protest dances across her face, but then I give her a small, tired smile. “I’ll call you.”

She nods, and I can tell she wants to say something more but doesn’t.

I step over to Ariana and pull her into a brief hug, then turn to Giana.

She looks… spent. Like every last ounce of strength has been drained from her bones. She sits on the couch, her expression so far away, her eyes glistening.

A pang of guilt stabs me in the chest.

Alex has always been careful to shield her from stress. To keep his demons behind a well-mannered front when she was near.

But tonight, he shattered that illusion.

Tonight, she saw him for who he truly was.

I did that.

Or at least I was the match that lit the fuse.

“Come on,” Noah says softly, guiding me to the door with a hand at my back.

As we walk, the silence wraps around me like a second skin. But my thoughts are anything but quiet.

What will Eli do to his son?

What have I stirred up in this house?

A fresh wave of guilt slams into me.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I should’ve let the past rot where it was buried.

But then I remember what caused me to be here .

And I know I had every right to be here.

………..

But nothing was wrong with me. I was a victim, and I needed help, and that was what I got.

I'm still unsettled by the water and dark places, but I'm able to hold my own bath, and I regained my memories. I must say it was the best thing for me.

I cried an ocean that night. But I picked myself up, and a white coat ceremony or not, I accepted the offer I got to train my first year at a local hospital.

“Dr. Dawson,” someone teases playfully behind me, Bryce, one of the interns. “Any advice for the newbies?”

I glance over my shoulder with a smile.

“Don't get too attached to sleep… or coffee that’s still hot.”

A few laughs echo through the room, but my eyes scan past the celebration, past the congratulations… to the quiet, grounded truth of where I stand.

I'm still learning. Still growing.

But I’ve come a long way from the broken girl standing in that cold mansion hallway.

That night? It didn’t destroy me. It woke me up.

And now?

Now, I wear my white coat not just as a doctor but as a survivor.

As someone who refused to let betrayal define her.

As someone who rewrote her story, scalpel in hand, heart scarred but steady and ready for whatever will come next.