Semua Bab BILLIONAIRE'S DEAD WIFE RETURNS : Bab 31 - Bab 40

Kyla.I jolted awake with a scream lodged in my throat, my chest heaving like I have been running for miles. My own voice shatters the quiet of the hospital room. “Please stop! Please stop, please” The words tumble out broken, desperate, ripped straight from the nightmare that dragged me back into the darkness I thought I’d buried. My body trembles, drenched in sweat, the thin hospital gown sticking to me. My hair clings dimly to my face. For a moment, I can’t separate my dream from reality, his hands, his voice, the belt striking the floor before it found my skin.My eyes dart wildly, searching corners of the room like a terrified child. I expect to see him there, my father, looming with that cold glare and heavy hand. But instead, my vision clears and I find Jake there.He is sitting in the chair beside me, his broad frame hunched forward, elbows braced on his knees like he’s been holding vigil for hours. His eyes meet mine, fierce and soft at the same time, a storm barely containe

Mara My phone buzzed with Kyla’s name last night, I almost didn’t pick up. It was late, and the kids had just settled down after a long day. But something in me told me to answer, and thank God I did because these kids really needed me. Her voice was weak, strained, barely holding together. “Mara, it’s me. I’m in the hospital. I need you to go check on Chanel and Elias for me. Please.”I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need to. Kyla has always been the kind of woman who tries to handle everything herself, who hides her pain so no one else has to carry it. For her to call me, of all people, I knew it had to be serious. She never asked for any type of help unless she really needed it. So I stayed with the kids, tucked them in, and told them Mama was fine because that’s what they needed to hear. But this morning, I couldn’t keep them away any longer. They had been asking nonstop, little voices full of worry: Where’s Mama? Why hasn’t she come home? When is she coming home? And truth is

Jake.My heart is hammering so hard I’m afraid they’ll hear it. The little boy on Kyla’s lap lets out another burst of laughter, and it rattles through me, unsteadying me more than any fight ever has. He’s got her smile, that radiant curve that lights up her whole face but when I look closer, something twists inside me.Because he’s got my eyes. He looks just like me when I was a kid. I blink, rub at my chest like I can scrub the thought away. No. That’s impossible. It has to be impossible.But I can’t shake it. The way his curls fall, the shape of his nose, the spark of mischief in his expression. It’s like looking at an old photograph of myself at five years old. My mother used to joke that she had to write my name on everything because the resemblance between me and my younger pictures was too strong to ignore. And this boy this boy looks like he’s stepped right out of my childhood.I force a smile, swallowing the rising tide of confusion. The last thing Kyla needs is me unravelin

Jake.The doctor clears his throat from the doorway, pulling me out of the storm inside my head. I blink up at him, realizing I must look like hell, hair a mess from dragging my hands through it, shoulders tense, eyes wild.“Mr. Jake?” he says carefully, like he is afraid I might bite.I straighten, clearing my throat, trying to pull myself together. “Yeah.”He gestures toward his office down the hall. “Could I have a word with you? Privately.”The knot in my stomach tightens. Every time a doctor says privately, it feels like a bad omen. I push off the wall and follow him, my footsteps heavy against the sterile tile floor.Inside his office, it smells like disinfectant and coffee gone cold. He motions for me to sit, and I drop into the chair across from his desk, bracing myself.“First of all,” he begins, folding his hands on the desk, “I want to assure you that Kyla’s condition is improving. The concussion was severe, but she is out of immediate danger. Her scans look really good, an

Kyla The next morning comes faster than I want it to.By the time the nurse wheels me down the corridor, my head is buzzing with everything I’m trying not to think about Jake’s decision, the kids’ questions, the storm I know is coming.The Discharge papers are all signed. Prescriptions handed over. Instructions rattled off. The motions blur together until I’m being lifted carefully into Jake’s car. He doesn’t say a word as he steadies me, his hands gentle but his jaw tight. The silence between us is a wall so thick I can hardly breathe through it.The kids climb in behind me, Chanel immediately hugging her little backpack to her chest, Elias clutching his toy blocks like treasure. Mara lingers by the curb, her smile soft but worried.“You call me if you need anything,” she whispers to me, and I nod, forcing a smile I don’t feel. She leans in, presses a kiss to each child’s forehead, then steps back as Jake shuts the door. A big part of me wishes I could have stayed with her instead,