Dear ex-Wife please be mine again
Chapter 120

Chapter 120

Christiana’s POV.

The buzzing of the salon was a soft hum around me as the stylis gently applied the dye to the tips of my hair. I was sitting back, sipping a cold iced tea, in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with Grace about the latest fashion trends, when my phone vibrated on the counter beside me. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Alex’s name.

“Hello?” I answered, pressing the phone to my ear, a smile still lingering on my lips.

“Christiana,” came Alex’s voice, calm but with an edge I knew too well, that controlled tone he used when he was holding something back.

I straightened immediately, my heartbeat quickening. “Alex? What’s wrong?” My voice was barely a whisper, but already, I could feel the panic creeping up.

There was a pause, a breath, and then he said, “It’s Ethan. He has a ruptured appendix. He’ll be in surgery in no time.”

The world stopped. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. “What?” My voice came out strangled, barely a whisper. “A…. ruptured…?” I couldn’t even finish, my mind racing with images of Ethan, his little face pale and twisted in pain. My baby boy.

“He’s going to be okay, Christiana,” Alex’s voice tried to reassure, but it sounded far away, muffled by the roaring in my ears. “Just get here as soon as you can.”

“yes, yes, I’m coming. Right now,” I stammered, my voice shaking as I hung up, barely able to register the stylist’s confused look as I jumped out of the chair, hair dye still in place. The cape around my shoulders flapped as I ran, dropping everything, my iced tea spilling as I darted through the salon toward the exit.

“Ma’am, wait! Your things!” Grace called after me, her footsteps quick behind as she gathered my purse, my shopping bags, everything I’d left in my wake. But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even slow down. Every thought, every instinct was focused on getting to my son.

My heart pounded wildly, my breath coming in short gasps as I burst through the door and into the street, searching for the car. My driver was standing by the door, his eyes widening as he saw me running toward him.

“To the hospital!” I cried, barely giving him a chance to process what was happening as I all but threw myself into the backseat. “Now!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied quickly, his calm professionalism kicking in as he jumped into the driver’s seat, the car roaring to life. But every second felt like a lifetime, like the clock was mocking me as we sat there, still, waiting to break free from traffic. Every inch of my skin was burning, my hands trembling as I gripped the edge of my seat, my mind racing in a thousand different directions, all of them ending with Ethan.

Grace scrambled in beside me, her face was of worry and confusion as she placed her hand on my arm, trying to steady me. “Ma’am, breathe. What’s going on?”

“It’s Ethan,” I choked out, barely able to say his name. “He’s in the hospital. Surgery… ruptured appendix.” The words were spilling out, broken, barely making sense as my voice cracked, and I saw her expression soften, a hand covering her mouth as she took it in.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered, her own eyes misting over. She squeezed my arm, trying to keep me steady, but I was already somewhere else, back in that hospital, imagining every possible horror.

All I could see was his face, his little smile, and the idea of him in pain, of him lying in a cold hospital bed while doctors worked to save him, tore me apart from the inside.

As soon as I stepped into the hospital, the sharp, sterile smell hit me, making everything feel ten times more real, more

Chapter 120

unbearable. I stumbled forward, my legs trembling as my eyes scanned the crowded hallway, frantically looking for them. And then I saw them…Alex and Emma, standing by the wall just outside a set of double doors.

Emma was clutching her stuffed rabbit, her small face tear–streaked and red as shed up at me,

her eyes swollen from crying. Beside her, Alex’s face was pale, but his expression was selid, firm, as he took a step forward and reached out for me. The moment our eyes met, I felt my knees buckle. The weight of everything crashed down on me at once.

“Christiana,” he called out softly, crossing the distance in two quick strides and steadying me with his hands on my shoulders. His voice was calm but firm, a steady anchor in the middle of the storm raging inside me. “He’s going to be okay. You hear me? He’s going to be okay.”

I tried to respond, but the words caught in my throat, only coming out as a broken sob. I was breathing hard, my chest tight, feeling as if my heart might give out from the sheer panic clawing its way up inside me. “Alex, I–I can’t…he’s just a little boy,” I managed to stammer, feeling the sting of tears welling up in my eyes.

“Breathe, Christiana,” Alex said, his voice soft yet commanding. He placed a hand on the small of my back, his touch grounding me. “You have to stay calm for him, alright?”

I nodded, desperately trying to steady my breath, though every exhale felt like a struggle, like my body couldn’t comprehend anything beyond the thought of my son–my little boy, in a hospital bed, awaiting surgery. Ethan and Emma had gotten sick before, had their share of scrapes and falls. But this…a ruptured appendix? My mind couldn’t wrap around it. I felt like I was spinning, spiraling.

“Come with me,” Alex whispered, guiding me down the hall. He led me to a window, looking into a room where Ethan lay on a narrow hospital bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses moving around him. His face was pale, his tiny body curled slightly, clutching his stomach, his forehead glistening with sweat. He was so small, so helpless, and seeing him like that shattered something deep inside me.

“Oh, God,” I breathed, my hand flying to my mouth as my knees almost gave out again. “Oh, my baby.” I felt hot tears spill down my cheeks, blurring my vision. I was shaking all over, barely able to stand. Alex’s arm was around me, his grip firm and steady, but even that couldn’t stop the panic ripping through me.

“Christiana, listen to me,” Alex said, his voice low and reassuring as he held me close. He wiped a tear from my cheek, his face inches from mine. “I know it’s hard, but he’s in good hands. They’re doing everything they can. We have to be strong for him. He needs us to be strong.”

I nodded weakly, though the tears kept coming. I could feel myself falling apart, losing all control. “I just…I just can’t stand seeing him in pain, Alex. He’s…he’s just so little.”

Alex squeezed my shoulders, his gaze steady. “He’s going to pull through this,” he said, his voice filled with a confidence I desperately wanted to believe. “He’s strong, just like his mom.”

Just then, a doctor approached us, and I turned, barely able to breathe as he began to speak.

“Mr. and Mrs. Alistair” he said, his tone gentle but clinical. “We’re preparing Ethan for surgery. The appendix has ruptured, and it’s crucial we operate within the next few hours to prevent any further infection.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach, leaving me gasping, struggling to process. Surgery. my Ethan… “Thank you, doctor,” Alex replied, giving a nod. His grip on my hand was tight, grounding, as he tried to reassure me with a squeeze. But I was barely holding it together, the panic bubbling up as I watched the doctor turn back to Ethan’s room,

“When…when will we know he’s okay?” I asked, my voice still shaky, my gaze locked on the doctor’s back as he walked away.

“It will take some time,” Alex said softly, guiding me to sit down as he knelt beside me, placing a steady hand over mine. “But he’s going to be alright, Christiana. He has the best doctors, the best care. And we’re here, right here, waiting for him when he comes out.”

I nodded, even as another sob escaped, and I looked down at Emma, who was huddled beside us, clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly, her little shoulders shaking. I reached down, pulling her close, trying to comfort her as much as myself.

“Mommy…” Emma’s voice was muffled, her tears staining my blouse. “Is…is Ethan gonna be okay?”

I hugged her tighter, brushing her hair with trembling fingers. “Yes, sweetheart,” I whispered, my voice choked. “He’s going to be just fine.”

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But even as I said it, I felt the weight of those words sink into me, and I prayed with everything in me that it was true. That Ethan would be okay, that we’d get through this…together. And as I clung to Alex and Emma, I closed my eyes, holding onto the only thing I had left: hope.

As we sat in the waiting area, time seemed to slow down. The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled my senses, each tick of the clock digging into my nerves like tiny, endless pinpricks. I kept my arms wrapped around Emma, feeling her small, trembling body against mine as she clutched her stuffed rabbit tightly, her tear–streaked face buried in my shoulder. Her sobs had quieted to soft, shuddering breaths, but I knew she was just as scared as I was, just as shaken.

Alex sat beside me, one hand resting on my shoulder, the other clenched tightly around his phone as if he could barely contain the tension coiling through his own body. He looked composed, his jaw set and his expression calm, but I could see the flicker of worry in his eyes, the way his shoulders stiffened each time he looked toward the hallway where Ethan had been taken.

“I should have been there, Alex,” I whispered, guilt clawing at my insides. “I was….at the salon, shopping…while our son was here. In pain.” The words felt bitter as they left my lips, each one sinking like a stone in my heart.

Alex’s hand moved to clasp mine, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over my knuckles. “Christiana, stop,” he said softly, his voice carrying a calm firmness. “You couldn’t have known. None of us could have. This isn’t your fault.”

I wanted to believe him, but the guilt was unshakeable. My boy was lying in a hospital bed, and I hadn’t been there. A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly, taking a shuddering breath.

“Mommy…” Emma’s small voice brought me back, her wide, anxious eyes searching mine. “Is Ethan hurting a lot?” She looked so lost, her little face pale and fearful.

I hugged her close, stroking her hair. “He’s…he’s a bit uncomfortable right now, sweetheart,” I whispered, forcing myself to sound stronger than I felt. “But the doctors are going to make him all better. He’ll be back with us soon.”

Just then, Alex’s phone buzzed, breaking the heavy silence. He glanced down at it, his expression tightening. “It’s the board he muttered, looking torn.

“Let them wait,” I said firmly, giving him a determined look. “Nothing is more important than being here for Ethan. Nothing.”

He nodded, slipping the phone back into his pocket, his gaze softening as he looked back at me and Emma. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his hand resting protectively on Emma’s shoulder. “We’re in this together, all of us.”

Minutes ticked by, feeling like an eternity. The waiting room was filled with hushed murmurs, the low hum of people moving in and out, but everything blurred around me. All I could think about was Ethan…his face pale and drawn, his little body curled up in pain. I clung to Alex’s words, to the steady presence of him beside me, grounding me even as my mind raced.

Then, finally, the double doors swung open, and a doctor emerged, his expression unreadable as he approached. I tensed, holding Emma tighter, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.

“Mr. and Mrs. Alistair?” The doctor’s voice was calm, and he glanced between us, offering a reassuring smile. At this point, I didn’t mind being addressed as Mrs. Alistair. “Ethan’s prepped for surgery. We’ll be taking him in shortly.”

I swallowed, trying to force out words through the tightness in my throat. “Will he…will he be okay?”

The doctor nodded, his gaze steady and compassionate. “Appendix ruptures are serious, but we’re well–prepared. We have a

specialized team for pediatric cases, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure he recovers smoothly.”

I managed a weak nod, biting back another surge of tears. Alex’s arm tightened around my shoulders, his presence steady, anchoring me as the doctor continued.

“It’ll take a few hours,” the doctor said, looking at each of us with calmn reassurance. “I suggest you get some rest. We’ll update you as soon as the surgery is over.”

“Thank you,” Alex replied, his voice strong even as his hand tightened around mine. I nodded, forcing myself to breathe, to take in the doctor’s words and hold onto them like a lifeline.

As the doctor walked away, I felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me, the emotional strain leaving me drained. But I couldn’t rest, not until I knew my boy was safe, until I could see his face again. I turned to Alex, my voice a whisper. “What if…what if something goes wrong?”

“Hey,” he said, lifting my chin with a gentle touch, his gaze meeting mine. “We don’t think like that. Not now. He’s going to come out of this, Christiana. Our boy is strong, and he’s going to be fine.”

I looked up at him, his face steady and unshakeable, and for the first time in hours, I felt a glimmer of hope. He was right. Ethan was strong, and so were we. We had to be, for him and for Emma. Taking a deep breath, I pulled Emma close, hugging her as we waited, clinging to the hope that soon, our family would be whole again.

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