Dear Ex-Wife Please Be Mine Again (Christina and Alex) novel Chapter 193

Chapter 193 Christiana's POV

The air was heavy with grief. Clouds gathered above, their darkened edges hinting at rain, as if even the sky mourned today. I stood at the farthest corner of the cemetery, clutching my coat tightly around me. I didn't know why l'd come. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was the remnants of a friendship that had once meant something.

Daniel Brooks was being buried today. Today. The day he was supposed to face the consequences of his actions in court, the day justice was supposed to begin for me and my children. And now, he was dead. Poisoned.

I watched from a distance, trying to blend in with the small crowd.

His grandmother stood at the front, her frail frame shaking with sobs. She wore a simple black dress, her gray hair pulled back into a neat bun. Her cries pierced the air as she leaned on one of Daniel's brothers for support.

"My boy," she wailed, her voice cracking. "My sweet boy! Why? Why did this happen?"

Her younger grandson, the one who couldn't be older than twenty- four, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. The older brother, maybe twenty- seven, stood beside them, stiff and silent, his jaw tight as if holding back his own grief.

The priest spoke softly, his voice carrying words of peace and eternal rest. Behind him, the choir sang a mournful hymn, their voices rising and falling like waves of sorrow.

I stayed back, my heart heavy but my mind conflicted. Daniel had done terrible things. He had kidnapped my children, threatened our lives, and shattered any sense of safety we had. He was a monster. But I hadn't wanted this.

I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself to stay calm. I didn't w ant to b e seen. If his family spotted me, it would only m a k e things worse. To them, I was the reason Daniel had ended up in that cell. The reason he had spiraled so far down.

This thought alone made me clench my jaw.

"Why?" his grandmother cried again, breaking through my thoughts. She turned to the priest, shaking her head. "He wasn't a bad boy! He was good. So smart, so kind. What happened to him?

Why did he have to die like this?"

Her words hit m e harder than I expected. For a moment, I could s e e a different Daniel...the Daniel I had first met.

I r e m e m b e r e d the d a y h e saved m e a n d t h e twins a t t h e mall. We'd been cornered by thieves, their knives flashing under the harsh fluorescent lights. But Daniel had appeared out of nowhere, calm and fearless. He'd outsmarted them, gotten us to safety.

He'd been my friend. Back then, he was someone I trusted, someone who always had a kind word or a helping hand. He was smart, grounded, and humble. I'd even felt grateful to have him in my life.

But then, things changed. He started looking at me differently, lingering too long in conversations, asking questions that felt too personal. At first, I thought it was harmless...just a crush he'd get over. But then he began to see Alex as a rival.

That was when everything fell apart.

Daniel had become obsessive, controlling, angry. The man who had once been my friend disappeared, replaced by someone I couldn't recognize. He hurt me in ways I never thought he would.

He b e c a m e a danger to m e and my kids.

I shook my head, swallowing hard. No. I couldn't afford to feel sorry for him. He'd made his choices, and they'd led him here.

The coffin was being lowered now, the choir's hymn swelling in the background. I focused on the sight, the finality of it all. His grandmother wailed again, clutching at her chest as if her heart might break in two.

"My boy!" she cried. "My sweet, sweet boy!"

Her voice cracked, and one of the brothers pulled her closer, his face crumpling. The other brother looked down at the ground, his shoulders shaking.

I bit my lip, my chest tightening. For a moment, I almost felt like crying. Almost. But I forced myself to stay composed.

I thought about what l'd wanted for Daniel. Jail. A trial.

Consequences. I'd wanted him to face justice, to answer for what he'd done to me and my kids. I wanted him to know the pain he'd caused, to live with it every day.

But now, he was gone. And there was no justice in that.

The priest said something about forgiveness, about finding peace in the afterlife. I tuned him out, focusing instead on the faces of Daniel's family. They were broken, mourning a man they loved, a man they believed in.

And they knew. They had every idea of the things he'd done to me and my kids. Yet he was still their Daniel. Still their grandson and brother.

I stayed until the very end, watching as people began to disperse.