Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 119

Alexander’s POV

The park was alive with laughter, squeals, and the carefree chaos of kids running wild. I watched Ethan and Emma dart through the grass, their laughter sounding like melody to my ears. This park, the busiest in the city, was flooded with families, couples lounging on picnic blankets, and other parents watching from benches scattered around the open field. It was peaceful, almost picturesque, and for a moment, I could let ny guard down and enjoy it.

was just me and the kids. They seemed more excited than Christiana was out shopping with Grace, her P.A., and for once, ever to have my undivided attention. Ethan and Emma played with a group of other children nearby, their energy uncontainable as they tore through the park, laughter ringing out every few seconds. I caught myself smiling..these moments were rare, and I wanted to hold onto every second of it.

Just then, a scream pierced through the air, high–pitched and panicked. My entire body went rigid. Parents around me snapped to attention, their eyes darting toward the sound. I whipped my head around, dread sinking into my stomach as I spotted the crowd forming, children clustering together and chattering nervously.

Then I saw her…Emma…standing back, her face drained of color. Her hand was over her mouth, her wide, terrified eyes fixed on something in the middle of the group.

“Emma!” I called, striding forward. She didn’t respond, didn’t even look my way. My heart pounded as I tore through the crowd of parents and kids. And then I saw him, Ethan, crumpled on the ground, clutching his stomach, his face twisted in pain, green veins bulging along his neck.

“Oh, God,” I breathed, feeling an icy chill rush through me even as my skin burned with panic. “Ethan!” I dropped to my knees beside him, cupping his face. He was sweating, his skin clammy, and his eyes were glazed, unfocused.

“Dad….” His voice was barely a whisper, strained as he tried to breathe through the pain. His fingers clenched, grabbing onto my arm, his grip so tight I felt the desperation in it.

“I’ve got you, son,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt inside. “I’m right here.”

I scooped him up, lifting him into my arms as carefully as I could. But he whimpered, pressing his face into my shoulder, his small body trembling: I felt a spike of anger and fear surge through me. I couldn’t stand to see him like this, so vulnerable, so helpless.

Parents and security guards crowded around, murmuring, watching. I didn’t have time to answer their questions. I pushed past them, my focus solely on getting Ethan to the car. “Move,” I snapped, not caring who was in my way. I could feel every second ticking by like a hammer pounding against my chest.

“Emma!” I shouted, catching sight of her just as we reached the car. She was sobbing, her face blotchy, eyes swollen, fear radiating from her tiny body. One of the bodyguards ushered her in beside me, her little fists clenched as she looked at her brother, terrified.

“Dad, what’s wrong with Ethan?” Her voice was a broken wail, tears streaming down her face as she clutched at my sleeve. “Is he going to be okay?”

I swallowed, holding Ethan tight against me as I slid into the backseat. He winced, his body twisting in pain, and my heart broke a little more. “Ethan, stay with me,” I murmured, my hand on his forehead, feeling his rapid, uneven breaths.

“Emma,” I said, struggling to keep my voice calm, “Ethan’s going to be fine. I need you to stay brave for him, okay?” But the words sounded hollow even to my own ears, the fear thick in my throat as I felt Ethan’s grip loosening.

Emma sobbed louder, her small hands shaking as she clung to my arm, her face pressed against my shoulder. “Daddy, please… make it stop… make Ethan better….”

“I’m trying, sweetheart,” I whispered, brushing a hand over her hair. I felt torn, helpless between them. Ethan’s pain, Emma’s panic, it was too much, yet I couldn’t let them see that. I had to be strong. I had to be their father.

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The car lurched forward, the driver speeding toward the hospital, every second stretching painfully as I held Ethan close. I forced myself to breathe, to keep my grip steady, even as my mind raced with worst–case scenarios. It had all happened so fast–one moment, we were enjoying a day at the park, and the next, everything had changed.

The moment the car screeched to a halt outside the hospital, I didn’t waste a second. I threw the door open, clutching Ethan tightly in my arms as I leapt out, calling out as loud as I could, “Help! Somebody, please!”

Almost instantly, doctors and nurses appeared, rushing over with a stretcher, their faces set with the kind of grim efficiency that both reassured and terrified me. I gently laid Ethan down, wincing as he whimpered, his face a mask of pain, eyes barely able to open.

A nurse placed her hand on my shoulder, urging me to step back as they surrounded him, hooking him up to monitors, calling out his vitals. I could only stand there, helpless, as they whisked him down the hallway, the sound of wheels on tile echoing, punctuated by his soft groans. Just as they were disappearing through a set of double doors, Ethan’s hand slipped from my grip, his fingers falling limp.

“Daddy!” Emma’s frightened cry snapped me back, her little voice cracking with panic as she reached up, clutching onto my shirt. I looked down, meeting her tear–filled eyes, wide and pleading as she clutched her stuffed bear close. She was shaking, her small body pressed against my leg like she’d never let go.

“They… they took Ethan,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at the now–empty hallway where they’d taken her twin. Her tears spilled over, and I knelt down, pulling her close as she buried her face against me, her şobs wracking her tiny frame.

“I know, sweetheart,” I murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair, feeling like my heart was breaking right there in the hospital corridor. “The doctors are going to help him, okay? They’re going to make him better.”

But the words felt hollow, as though I was saying them as much for myself as for her. I could feel Emma’s fear, her small fingers digging into my shoulder, but nothing could match the helplessness clawing at my own chest. Seeing Ethan like that, unable to do anything but watch as he was taken from me, was a different kind of agony.

Minutes passed, but they felt like hours, each one dragging on as we sat there, waiting, hoping. I kept my arm around Emma, her soft sniffles and the weight of her head on my shoulder the only anchor I had in that moment. Every now and then, she’d look up, her eyes searching mine, desperate for reassurance I could barely give.

Finally, the doors opened, and a doctor in scrubs approached, his expression serious, brows drawn tight. He nodded at me, his gaze calm but intense.

“Mr. Alistair” he began, his voice steady. “Ethan has a ruptured appendix. It’s very serious. We need to operate within the next twenty–four hours to prevent further infection.”

For a moment, his words didn’t register. My mind spun, struggling to connect the dots. “A… a ruptured appendix?” I stammered, blinking in disbelief. “But… he’s just a kid. How did

“It can happen very quickly, especially in children,” the doctor explained, his tone sympathetic but firm. “When the appendix ruptures, it releases bacteria into the abdomen, which is why surgery is critical to prevent further complications. We’re preparing the operating room now.”

I felt the floor sway beneath me, a cold wave of fear washing over. This was my son, my little–Ethan, lying somewhere beyond those doors, facing something I had no control over. I glanced down at Emma, her eyes wide with confusion, clutching her bear so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Will will he be okay?” I forced out, my voice rough, the question hanging in the air, almost choking me.

The doctor placed a hand on my shoulder, his expression softening. “We’re doing everything we can. He’s in good hands.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, forcing myself to hold it together for Emma’s sake. I looked down, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Ethan’s a tough kid,” I murmured, as much for myself as for her. “He’s going to be just fine.”

KEZ

ଷ୍ଟ, ୨% ।

Emma’s lower lip trembled, her voice barely a whisper. “Are you sure, Daddy?”

I nodded, feeling my own fear clawing up my throat. “Yes, sweetheart,” I said softly, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I’m

sure.”

But as I stood there, holding my daughter, I felt the overwhelming weight of the unknown pressing

down on me. Ethan was in there, fighting, and all I could do was wait.