“ Marry Me “

Chapter 8

Alex had planned to head straight to the hospital, but halfway there, he made a U-turn. There was something more pressing to take care of.

Mira’s family lawyer.

For years, Mira had lived under Aaron’s control, believing every word he told her. Aaron had convinced her that her parents hadn’t left her anything when they died, claiming their family’s debts had wiped out whatever was left. She never questioned it, never looked into it herself. She was too wrapped up in Aaron’s lies and manipulation. But Alex didn’t buy it. He knew Aaron too well to trust a single thing he said, and if Mira was going to reclaim her life, she needed to have a strong foundation—financially and socially.

He pulled up outside the lawyer’s office. The man had agreed to meet with him on short notice, but Alex knew this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. He straightened his jacket, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

The lawyer, an older man with graying hair and a stern expression, greeted him with a firm handshake and gestured for Alex to take a seat.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Alex said, his voice steady but purposeful.

“Of course. What can I do for you?” the lawyer asked, folding his hands on the desk.

Alex didn’t waste time. “I need to know about the estate left by Mira’s parents. Specifically, I want to confirm whether they left anything for her.”

The lawyer’s face hardened. “I’m sorry, Sir,but I cannot disclose my client’s information to a third party.”

Alex had anticipated this. “I understand confidentiality, but I’ve been told Mira’s parents left her nothing. Is that true?”

“I’m afraid I can’t confirm or deny that unless I’m speaking with the rightful next of kin,” the lawyer replied. “And from what I’ve heard, Mira is… deceased.”

Alex’s jaw tightened, but he kept his composure. “If her ex-husband, Aaron, comes to you for any information, do not disclose anything to him. He’s not the next of kin, and I don’t trust him with her affairs.”

The lawyer studied Alex for a moment before nodding. “Understood. If Mr. Aaron contacts me, I’ll reach out to you immediately.”

Satisfied, Alex thanked him and left the office.

As he got back into his car, his thoughts drifted back to Mira. She’d mentioned banana cake to the nurse, her face lighting up even for just a second. It was a small thing, but Alex couldn’t shake it off. Maybe she was craving it.

He made a quick stop at a bakery and picked up a small loaf, still warm from the oven. The scent of sweet bananas filled the car, and for a moment, Alex felt a strange warmth in his chest.

Why was he doing this? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was pity. Or maybe, deep down, it was something else. All he knew was that he couldn’t shake the thought that if he hadn’t been so cold to Mira all those years ago, she might not have ended up marrying Aaron.

Alex sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he headed for the hospital. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to make sure Aaron doesn’t go near Mira’s inheritance because he was sure her parents had left some for her .

Mira’s Pov .

I sat in my hospital bed, the glow of the tablet in my hands casting a cold light over my face. Aaron’s voice droned from the screen, his fake grief filling the sterile room. It was his so-called memorial service for me—a pathetic performance for an audience of sympathizers.

“Miranda was the love of my life,” he said, his voice breaking in all the right places. “She was selfless, Even though i knew about her affair …i still loved her “

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. What a joke. Affair? I didn’t even care about his lies …The same woman he tried to kill in cold blood? The same woman he left bleeding at the bottom of the stairs without so much as a second thought?

Aaron’s voice continued, but I had heard enough of his lies. “She was an angel on earth,” he said, tears sliding down his cheeks as he wiped his eyes dramatically. “Her death has left a void in our lives that can never be filled.”

“Void, my ass,” I muttered, tapping the screen to mute his voice.

I was done with his ridiculous eulogy. It wasn’t grief—it was lieswrapped in a show of crocodile tears.

Switching tabs, I searched through his social media. If Aaron cared so much about my death, surely he’d be flaunting his grief online too. I scrolled and scrolled, looking for any recent photos of Josh, but there were none. My son was invisible on his page, as though he no longer existed.

My heart sank. I needed to see Josh.

I hesitated for a moment, then typed in my own username. My old page popped up, untouched since I lost control of it. As I scrolled through the photos, my chest tightened. Picture after picture of Josh filled the screen—his bright smile, his chubby cheeks, his messy hair.

I touched the screen gently, as if I could reach through it and hold him. Tears pricked my eyes. I missed him so much it hurt.

The door creaked open, and I quickly wiped my face. Alex walked in, carrying a small box.

“Hi,” I said, sitting up quickly, my voice shaky but eager. I hoped he had news about Josh.

He placed the box on the small table next to my bed. I glanced at it, then back at him. “What’s this?”

Alex didn’t answer. He opened the box, revealing a banana cake, its sweet aroma filling the room. My lips curved into a small smile.

“How did you know I was craving this?” I asked, my voice softer now, my amusement clear.

He gave a small shrug, then placed the cake in the mini fridge beside the bed.

My smile faded as I leaned forward. “Alex,” I said, my voice trembling with urgency, “how is Josh? Please tell me everything. Is he okay? Is he eating well? Does he miss me?” The questions poured out of me, one after another, without giving him a chance to answer.

Alex sat down in the chair beside me, his expression calm and steady. “He’s fine,” he said simply.

My heart clenched. Something about the way he said it felt off. “Just that? Alex, please tell me the truth,” I pleaded.

Without a word, he handed me his phone. My fingers trembled as I took it from him, and I tapped on the video he had pulled up.

The screen came alive with a clip of Josh sitting at a table, eating while chatting animatedly with Alex. Another clip showed him playing Roblox, his face lit up with excitement. And then, there was one of him doing his homework, his little brow furrowed in concentration.

My breath caught, and a wave of relief washed over me. Josh looked okay—more than okay. He looked safe, cared for, and even happy.

Tears streamed down my face as I handed the phone back to Alex. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I don’t know how to repay you for all you’ve done.”

Alex leaned forward, his eyes steady on mine. “Marry me,” he said, his voice low and firm.

My breath hitched, and my heart stopped for a moment.