My CEO HUSBAND sign the divorce novel Chapter 298

Chapter 298: We can fix this!.

I sat quietly, watching Alexander feed Aimy while she insisted on feeding him in return.

Since I had not eaten either, Maria took it upon herself to arrange dinner for the three of us. The staff set a small table in the room, and we ate together.

Alexander sat opposite me with Aimy on his lap, listening patiently to her endless chatter and answering her questions from time to time.

When I had invited him to join us, I hadn’t expected it to work. Yet here he was, eating more than I had ever seen him .

I hated to admit it, but the sight of them together warmed my heart.

One of the reasons I had left all those years ago was the fear that my child would grow up without her father’s love. Who would have imagined that Alexander would come to care for Aimy so deeply?

Suddenly, he looked up.

"Why aren’t you eating?" he asked, a trace of concern in his voice.

"I’m full," I replied softly, lowering my gaze to my plate.

He glanced at the barely touched food before him, but he said nothing.

When we finished, the staff cleared the table.

"It’s time for bed, Aimy," I said, reaching to take her from Alexander.

She shook her head and clung to him instead.

"Uncle, can you tell me a story? Like Aunt Anna does?"

Alexander and I exchanged a brief look.

"Of course," he said.

Then Aimy turned to me. "Mummy, do you want to listen too?"

A memory surfaced unbidden: the nights Alexander used to tell me stories when I couldn’t sleep.

And then how I found out who the stories were really for.

My fingers curled into my palms.

"I need to freshen up," I said with a small smile. "I’ll join you later."

It was a lie. I knew I would wait until the story was over.

I returned to the guest room, changed into a soft pair of pajamas, and gave them plenty of time. Only then did I go back to check on Aimy.

Just as I had expected, she was already asleep, and the room was empty.

I walked to the bed, smoothed the duvet over her, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Just as I turned to leave, I noticed that the balcony door was open. Frowning, I walked toward it. The faint scent of cigarette smoke reached me before I stepped outside.

Alexander stood by the railing, gazing into the darkness with a cigarette between his fingers.

I had almost forgotten that he had taken up smoking two years ago. I had assumed he would have quit by now.

My eyes fell on the ashtray beside him. It was nearly full.

"How much do you smoke these days?" I asked before I could stop myself.

He didn’t turn. "Less than I used to."

I let out a quiet huff. "You call this an improvement?"

Almost without thinking, I moved to stand beside him.

"What else should I call it?" he asked.

"You know it’s bad for your health."

He glanced at me, as though he wanted to say something, but merely looked away and took another drag.

"You never used to smoke," I said softly, remembering how Nana used to boast that her grandson stayed away from such habits.

A faint, humorless smile touched his lips.

"I used to have someone waiting for me at home," he said quietly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if regretting the admission.

"It started as a way to dull the pain," he continued. "Then, over time, it became a habit."

Before I could respond, the smoke drifted toward me and I coughed. He immediately crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.

"Sorry," he said, instinctively reaching for me before stopping himself. "I’m sorry."

"You know it doesn’t have to be this way," I said.

"No," he agreed, turning to face me. "Maybe I don’t have to be lonely anymore."

"I already told you," I replied, "you have every right to be in Aimy’s life."

A flicker of frustration crossed his face.

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