Dear Ex-Wife Please Be Mine Again (Christina and Alex) novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124 

As I walked into Ethan’s hospital room, the soft hum of the machines and the antiseptic scent of the place pressed in on me. Ethan was sitting up, trying to look strong, but I could see the strain beneath his small smile. Christiana was beside him, her hand resting lightly on his, her gaze tender and worried all at once. Emma sat on the edge of the bed, her little fingers gripping Ethan’s arm, her face set in that fierce way she got when she was trying to be brave. 

Ethan’s gaze met mine, and he gave me a nod, a mix of defiance and relief in his eyes. “Hey, Dad,” he said, his voice small but steady. “Guess they’re not getting rid of me that easy, huh?” 

I forced a smile, trying to mask the ache in my chest. “Not a chance,” I replied, my voice as steady as I could make it. “You’re too tough for that.” 

Christiana turned toward me, and the worry lines on her face softened a little. She reached out, just barely touching my arm, and the brief contact felt grounding–like a quiet reassurance. In that moment, we were just a family, all of us in this together, united by the relief of seeing Ethan safe, alive, and still very much himself. 

Dr. Malik stepped in then, clipboard in hand, giving us all a warm nod. He glanced at Ethan, then addressed the three of us. 

“Ethan did very well in the operation,” Dr. Malik began, his tone calm and reassuring. “The appendix was inflamed, but we were able to remove it without complications. He’ll need a few more days of rest here, and then at least a couple of weeks of taking it easy once he’s home.” He looked over at Ethan. “No running around, no rough play, just some good old rest and relaxation.” 

Ethan groaned, rolling his eyes a little. “So I have to be all boring?” 

“Pretty much,” Dr. Malik replied with a small smile. “I know it’s not easy, but give your body the time it needs, okay?” Christiana gave Ethan a gentle look, her voice soft but firm. “You’ll listen to the doctor, right?” 

Ethan nodded, glancing at her, then at Emma, who was watching him with her big, serious eyes. He reached over and ruffled her hair gently. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Emma’s lip trembled a little, but she held herself together, crossing her arms with a small huff. “You better not,” she muttered with all the seriousness a five–year–old could muster. “Or I’ll be mad.” 

We all laughed, and Ethan’s eyes softened as he looked at her. “Guess I don’t wanna make 

you 

mad, huh?” 

Christiana stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle hug, careful not to press against his bandaged stomach. He closed his eyes, exhaling, and leaned into the hug, letting himself relax just a little. I could see him gathering strength from her, his hand resting lightly on her back, like he needed that touch to steady himself. 

“You’re going to be okay,” she whispered, her voice soft and a little shaky. “We’re all here for you.” 

He nodded, his eyes drifting down as if he couldn’t quite look her in the eye. “Thanks, Mom.” 

It hit me, seeing him like this–just how hard he was trying to be brave, putting on this strong front for us. Here was my son, reassuring us all, even though he was the one who’d gone through something frightening and painful. Pride filled me, mixed with a pang of sadness that he’d had to experience this at all? 

When Christiana let go, I stepped forward and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You scared us, you know, I said, my voice low, fighting to keep the emotion in check. “But you did good, Ethan. I’m proud of you.” 

His eyes met mine, steady and filled with a quiet gratitude. “Thanks, Dad,” he replied softly, and in that small response, I could feel the weight of everything he was holding back, trying to be strong. 

Just then, the nurse entered, giving us a polite nod as she checked Ethan’s vitals and made a note on his chart. “He’s doing well, but visiting hours are ending soon. He needs plenty of rest. 

08:00 Thu, 

Chapter 124 

Christiana nodded, her hand resting lightly on Ethan’s. “We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” 

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“Okay,” Ethan said, trying to smile through the obvious exhaustion settling over him. “I’ll be here.” He paused, glancing at all of us. “Thanks… for coming.” 

Emma leaned over and kissed his cheek, whispering, “Goodnight, Ethan.” Then she took my hand, looking up at me with that pleading, hopeful look, needing reassurance that he’d be okay. 

As we left the room, I glanced back one last time to see Ethan already drifting off, his face finally relaxing as sleep pulled him under. 

In the hallway, Christiana exhaled, the relief evident as she leaned back against the wall for a moment, her shoulders sagging. Without a thought, I reached out, took her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze–a silent promise that we’d get through this together. 

Emma looked up at us, yawning, her small face sleepy but content. “Ethan’s gonna be okay, right?” 

Christiana knelt down, brushing back a strand of Emma’s hair. “Yes, sweetheart. He’s going to be just fine.” 

And as we walked out of the hospital and into the quiet of the night, a calm settled over me, a sense of peace knowing that, for now, we were all okay. 

After we got home and settled Emma into bed, the house felt almost too quiet, the weight of the past few days still heavy in the air. Christiana and I ended up in the kitchen, both of us too awake, too wound up to sleep just yet. I poured us each a cup of tea, hoping the familiar ritual might help us find a bit of calm 

Christiana leaned against the counter, looking out the window with a distant gaze. She took a slow sip of tea, her eyes soft but tired. “It feels like it should all be over,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Like I should be able to breathe again now that Ethan’s out of surgery.” 

I stepped closer, close enough to be a quiet presence beside her. “It’s okay to still feel it, you know,” I said, my voice gentle. “What we went through… it’s going to take some time. But he’s safe now. We’re safe.” 

She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s strange, Alex,” she whispered, her fingers curling around her cup. “Seeing him like that… seeing how strong he’s trying to be. He’s only five, but he’s braver than I feel.”