Dear Ex Wife Please take me back

ALEX

The world stops.

The music fades. The flashing lights blur into nothing. Mira's words echo in my

skull like a gunshot.

She drowned, Alex.

No.

No, she didn't.

How could she?

Did she throw herself in the pool when I left?

Was it because she was so drunk that she fell? Or did she do it to spite me?

Honestly, my mind is spinning so much that I can't think straight.noveldrama

To make it worse, a memory from earlier hits me like a wave,

The stretcher from earlier,

The flash of a white sheet stained with water, clinging to a limp figure.

I move without thinking, shoving past bodies, my pulse hammering so hard it's all I can hear.

Athena.

I don't even remember reaching the paramedics, but suddenly I'm there -

grabbing the arm of a man in uniform, my voice a raw snarl.

"Is she alive?"

"Sir, please stand back-"

"IS SHE ALIVE?"

The other paramedic's eyes shift toward the ambulance doors, just as they slam shut.

"No," I breathe, panic strangling me. "No. Open the damn doors!"

"Sir-"

I don't hear the rest.

My hand's already on the door handle, yanking it open - and then I realize she is not here. Damn it!

She is at the hospital I left hours ago.

"Is she alive?" I snarl again, the words barely human this time.

One of the paramedics, an older man with a steady gaze, finally answers. "We don't know," he says, his voice firm but not unkind. "She was under for a long time. It'll take a miracle."

A miracle.

The word cuts deeper than it should.

My jaw locks, every muscle in my body going rigid. Athena doesn't need a miracle she needs to be fine. She needs to open her eyes, glare at me like I'm the most infuriating man she's ever met, and remind me how much she hates me.

Not this. Never this.

The paramedic studies me carefully, and I see it - the flicker of recognition in his eyes. Of course, he knows who I am.

Everyone does.

"Do you know her, Sir?" he asks, his question annoying me even though the tone

is respectful.

I don't answer.

I don't blink.

I just stare at him—cold, hard, daring him to ask again.

He doesn't.

Instead, as I take a step back toward my car, he speaks again. "Sir... we can take you with us. It's faster with the ambulance."

For a moment, I actually consider it.

The flashing ambulance lights reflect off the wet pavement, and imagine sitting in the back, every

in the road, a brutal reminder

that she might already be gone.

No.

I can't.

"I'll drive," I say through clenched teeth.

The paramedic nods like he expected that, and I'm already moving - sliding behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life.

The ambulance peels away, sirens wailing, as I step on the accelerator, speeding through the night.

Where was Noah when this happened? Wasn't he supposed to be with her?

Fuck I should have gone back when I felt like it. I knew Something was off and I ignored the nagging feeling and now I'm full of regret.

A loud horn sound from another car snaps me back to concentration but I don't slow down.

The city blurs past me as I drive through the night. A ride that should take forty five minutes takes me fifteen.

My grip on the wheel tightens with every mile.

I don't know what I'll find when I get there.

I don't know if Athena's still breathing.

But I know one thing if she isn't...

God help the world.

The tires let out a screeching sound as I park and rush out to the reception.

The nurse stands when she sees me.

"Mr. King-"

"Athena Dawson, where is she?" I ask as I wait for her response.

Whatver she will say will tell me if she's alive or not.

"Just a moment." She says as she looks through her computer.

with every click my heart pounds even harder. My knees feel weak.

The nurse's fingers move too slowly over the keyboard - or maybe time has just twisted into something unrecognizable. Each click echoes in my head, a cruel rhythm to the panic clawing its way up my throat.

My heart stams against my ribcage, harder, louder, like it's trying to break

mond clench my jaw, tasting the

c tang of fear on mytongue.

I'm not a man who panics. Not a man who begs.

But right now, standing here, waiting for the nurse to speak — I'm both.

I can't breathe.

I can't think.

Every second feels like an eternity.

Finally, she stops typing.

Her gaze lifts, and I see something in her eyes - hesitation. Pity.

Or maybe everything at once.

The silence stretches, too loud. too long.

My voice is a rough whisper, torn from the rawest part of me.

"Is she alive?"