My CEO HUSBAND sign the divorce novel Chapter 297

Chapter 297: Promise you won’t leave me!

"Hello, Uncle."

It was Uncle Herbert.

"How is Aimy?"

"She’s much better now."

"That’s good," he said, relief evident in his voice. "And how are you?"

"I’m fine, Uncle. You don’t need to worry."

There was a brief pause. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You know you can always tell me if something is wrong."

"I know. And I will. For now, please tell Aunt Margaret and Aunt Veronica not to worry."

He sighed softly. "All right. I’ll call again later."

"I know you will," I said with a quiet laugh.

He hung up the call.

When I turned around, Maria was already feeding Aimy. I returned to the couch and watched them quietly. Aimy’s appetite was still poor, but the doctors had assured me it would improve with time. After only a few bites, she pursed her lips and declared that she was full.

Maria tried to coax her into eating more, but in the end we let her be. Even this was an improvement.

"I’ll take the tray back," Maria said, rising from the bed.

"Can I go with Grandma?" Aimy asked.

Maria turned back with a smile. "Not outside, dear. You’re still recovering."

Aimy shook her head vigorously. "I’m not sick anymore. I took the injection yesterday and didn’t even cry."

Maria laughed softly and looked at me. Aimy followed her gaze, her eyes wide with hope.

I sighed in surrender. "All right. But I’m carrying you downstairs."

She beamed as I lifted her into my arms.

We made our way down in silence, Aimy looking around curiously; she had been asleep when we arrived at the villa.

Just before we reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door opened and the staff began greeting someone.

I stopped instinctively.

I knew who it was.

"Mummy, why did you stop?" Aimy asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart," I said, forcing a smile as I continued down.

Alexander stood near the entrance. He looked tired,more tired than I had ever seen him. Shadows lingered beneath his eyes, and his features seemed sharper with exhaustion.

Maria, who had gone ahead of us, greeted him first.

"Welcome back, Mr. Blackwood."

"Thank you, Maria," he replied, his voice low and rough.

He looked up, and our eyes met.

For a moment, the memory of that morning returned: his quiet plea, the hurt he had failed to hide when I refused to answer him.

Then his gaze shifted past me.

"Uncle!" Aimy cried, wriggling in my arms.

The weariness in his expression softened instantly. He stepped forward just as she launched herself toward him.

"Careful," I said, but he had already caught her securely against his chest.

He held Aimy close as she wrapped her small arms around his neck.

"Uncle, I thought you left," she said with a pout, studying his face.

He chuckled softly. "I’m sorry. I only went to work. But I’m back now."

"You won’t leave me again, right?"

Alexander visibly stiffened. My own breath caught. He glanced at me, but I looked away.

"I promise," he said quietly.

The determination in his voice sent a shiver through me. Yet what frightened me most was not his promise. it was Aimy’s growing attachment to him.

Even while she was sick, she had grown so used to his presence that she often preferred being in his arms to mine. Children naturally gravitate toward those who are kind to them, but with Aimy, it felt deeper than that.

I stepped forward and held out my arms. "Let Uncle rest for now. He just got home, and you still need your medicine."

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