Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 85

83. Saving Winona 

85 Saving Winona 

(Jayden) 

I glance into the window of the hospital room and see Ashlyn, laying there. Her face is devoid of emotion, her expression blank. There are no tears, no redness around her eyes, nothing to indicate the trauma of losing a baby. 

Surely no one would go so far as to frame someone else, even to the extent of losing their own child? Perhaps, Ashlyn’s capacity for manipulation really knows no bounds. 

My biggest question is, how much of this has my mother been involved in? 

I know Ashlyn intimately, and she’s always been dramatic, always excessively theatrical when it comes to dealing with personal matters, particularly concerning Winona and me. 

My only option now is honesty, this marriage must end, regardless of the circumstances. 

Baby or no baby, continuing this marriage is impossible. In hindsight, I should never have rushed into this union. 

I thought we could somehow make it work, but the ongoing saga with Winona has affected Ashlyn more than I had realized, and it’s clear now she requires professional help. 

I enter the room, approaching her bed with a heavy heart. “Ashlyn.” I start, my voice laced with a resignation that feels both freeing and deeply sad. 

She suddenly sits up, her movements quick, and throws her arms around me. “Jayden, oh God, Jayden. I’m so sorry. The baby is gone,” she sobs into my shoulder. 

ternally I feel 

“I know. It’s okay. Maybe it was just meant to be,” I reply gently, trying to comfort her while internally I nothing but turmoil. 

She clings to me tightly. I pry her arms from around my neck and sit down beside her, creating a small but significant distance between us. 

“She wanted this, Jayden. I told you Winona wanted to hurt me,” she whispers her accusations. 

“Ashlyn, why are you here in Santa Monica? How did you know where we’d be?” I ask. 

Her eyes now look flat and emotionless again. “I wanted to see you,” she claims simply. 

“But how did you know we’d be at Palisades Park?” I press, not willing to let her sidestep the truth. 

“I didn’t. I was just taking a look around, and there you were,” she replies, too quickly, too conveniently. 

“I don’t believe that“, I counter, my skepticism growing Her story doesn’t add up. 

“What are you saying?” she snaps, her voice rising sharply. “She killed our baby. Why are you interrogating me? Look at me–I could’ve broken my neck, not just my arm!” She gestures to her bruises and the cast encasing her arm. 

But sympathy is the last thing I feel. 

Ashlyn continues, “she’s going to pay. I have the money for the best prosecutor in the country, and they will prove what she’s done. Until then, we can be together. Try again for a baby,” she asserts, as if 

+25 BONUS 

85 Saving Winona 

resetting our life together is as simple as pressing a restart button. 

maybe you should try again with Lance,” I retort, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. It’s a low blow, but the absurdity of her suggestion that we could simply move past this, start over as if nothing happened, is too much to bear. 

Her grip on my wrist tightens painfully, and for the first time, genuine emotion flashes in her eyes–panic.” No! Jayden, you can’t mean that. That was a stupid mistake. You’re all I have left. Without you, without our baby, I might as well be dead!” she exclaims, her voice breaking. 

Her drastic words send a shiver down my spine. This is the Ashlyn I know too well–the one who manipulates emotions to bend situations to her will. I can’t be part of this cycle anymore. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” I declare firmly, trying to loosen her grip from my arm. “I need to think about Abby, about my life…” 

But she’s not listening. Her face contorts, tears suddenly streaming down her face as if summoned at will. “If you leave me, I swear, Jayden, I’ll kill myself!” she cries out, the intensity of her statement echoing off the sterile hospital walls. 

The monitors attached to her start beeping furiously as her agitation spikes. In a frantic move, she rips out the cannula drip from her arm, blood spurting from the freshly opened vein, painting a stark contrast against the pale hospital linens. 

It’s a gruesome sight, her desperation manifesting physically, and yet part of me questions the authenticity of her distress. I step back, distancing myself from the bed as medical personnel burst into the room. Her eyes are large and wild now and she screams. 

“We need to calm her down,” a nurse states urgently, assessing the situation with a professional eye. She signals to someone outside the door, and soon another staff member enters with a syringe. “She threatened to harm herself earlier,” the nurse explains as they approach Ashlyn. 

She is now frantically looking around, perhaps for an escape or perhaps for sympathy. 

Ashlyn’s eyes lock with mine again as the medical team restrains her gently but firmly. “Jayden, don’t leave me. Please,” she begs, her voice reduced to a desperate whimper. “I don’t want to live without you. I 

can’t.”