Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 520

(Winona)

The soft cry of a baby envelopes me.

At first, it’s faint, like it’s coming from another room. Then it grows louder, more insistent. I’m fumbling, trying to pinpoint the direction, but I can’t find it.

My hands press against empty air, the cries getting louder. I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.

I wake with a gasp, my chest so tight I can’t draw a breath back in. My hands grip the sheets. It’s like I’ve been running. But I’m in bed. My bed.

I look over and see Jayden isn’t beside me. But bright sun is coming through the window. I must have slept late.

The room is still. I finally suck a breath into my lungs.

No baby crying. No baby to find. No baby.

The realization twists. I sit up, forcing myself to breathe slowly, deliberately. “It’s just a dream,” I whisper, running a hand through my hair. “Just a stupid dream.”

***

After dressing in a loose shirt and jeans, I decide to head downstairs. The scent of coffee and toast wafts up, warm and inviting. I can hear the kids’ chatter and the scrape of chairs against the kitchen floor.

I put the fear from the dream to the side. I can do this. It’s a dream. I’m okay.

I reach the top of the stairs, gripping the handrail, but suddenly my chest tightens all over again. My breathing becomes shallow, my vision narrowing as the world tilts slightly.

I step back from the top step and hold onto the wall. It’s been a while since I had a panic attack.

“No,” I mutter, leaning on the wall with both hands. “Not now.”

My legs are jello. Every logical part of my brain tells me to just take a step, but I can’t. My body refuses to move.

“Winona?”

I look around.

Lisa is halfway up the stairs, a breakfast tray in her hands.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, though my voice trembles. “I’m just… a little dizzy.”

Lisa puts the tray on the floor and comes to my side, her hand steady on my arm. “Okay, no big deal. Let’s just stay here for a minute.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to stay here. I want to go downstairs.”

“And you will,” she says firmly. “One step at a time, with me. Come on. We got this. Don’t look down. Just watch your feet.”

I let her guide me, her presence solid and reassuring. By the time we reach the bottom, I’m both relieved and furious with myself.

“Stupid,” I mutter under my breath.

“Not stupid,” Lisa says, leading me to a chair. “Normal. Your body’s catching up to your brain. You’ll work through it.”

“I have to work through it.”

“You go into the dining room. I’ll grab that tray I left up there.”

‘Thanks, Lisa. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to find out.”

***

At the breakfast table, the kids chatter on about their plans for the day, blissfully unaware of my earlier struggle. I chatter with them and eat some warm toast and butter. This sure beats the cold toast at the hospital.