All Chapters of Love me again, Dear Ex wife!: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Kayla’s POV The wood was infinite in front of us, and the daylight was absorbed by the dense trees above. There was a silence between the three of us, which was heavy, tense--each of us with his own thoughts, with his own fears. The crunch of dead leaves under our feet and the only voice we heard was the wind murmuring at times as though it were haunting us.Damien was strolling next to me and his hand brushed me here and there and I had to remember that I was not all by myself. Liam followed a few feet behind, alert as ever, his cold blue eyes searching the trees as though they were out to attack him. Every now and then, I caught him glancing at me, his expression unreadable.We were heading toward the ruins. The birthplace of everything that had destroyed my life.The farther we went, the colder it became. The air was heavy with the smell of damp earth and decay, and the deeper we ventured, the more it felt like we were being swallowed whole.I could feel Ethan inside me, faint but

Kayla’s POVThe night air outside the ruined facility was cold enough to bite. My hands were trembling, my skin pale under the moonlight, but it wasn’t the chill that unsettled me—it was the quiet. The kind of quiet that felt alive, like the earth itself was holding its breath.We had escaped, or so Damien believed. Liam had stayed behind to destroy the last of the system, promising he’d follow us soon. But every part of me knew the truth: he wasn’t coming back. And the voice in my head wouldn’t let me believe otherwise.You can’t trust him.Her whisper slid like silk through my mind, soft, intimate, cruel.I pressed a hand to my temple, trying to shut her out. “Stop,” I murmured under my breath.Damien glanced at me from where he was setting up the fire, his expression softening. “Headache again?”I nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “Just… tired.”He moved to my side, kneeling in front of me, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His touch was gentle, grounding, pullin

Kayla’s POVWe were all too long, and terrible silent.There must have been a crackling of tension between us in the air between us, so tangible I tasted it. And Ethan was standing in the clearing like a ghost dragged out of my nightmares, but he was calm as he was suffocating. His eyes had a blue glow in them that was hypnotic, inhuman.Damien shifted in front of me instinctively, his body tense, one hand reaching behind to pull me closer. “That’s not possible,” he whispered, his voice rough with disbelief. “You’re dead.”Ethan’s lips curved into a faint, haunting smile. “Death is such a fragile thing, Damien. You of all people should know that.” His gaze slid past him—past Liam—and settled on me. “Hello, Kayla.”My throat tightened. “You shouldn’t be here.”He tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying me the way a scientist might examine a fragile experiment. “And yet, I am. Because you brought me back.”I shook my head. “No. You died in that explosion.”Ethan took a slow step for

Kayla’s POVThe dawn came too quickly. Pale light cut through the trees, brushing across the wreckage of the night before, but it brought no peace. The world felt colder now, emptier. Even the air tasted strange—like iron and smoke.I sat by the edge of the clearing, my fingers buried in the dirt. The earth was still trembling faintly, pulsing with something I couldn’t see but could feel deep inside me. It was faint, rhythmic, like a second heartbeat—his heartbeat.Damien and Liam were talking a few feet away. Their voices were low but sharp, every word laced with tension. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I didn’t need to. I could feel their fear. And worse, I could feel their pity.I didn’t want pity. I wanted control.But control was slipping further away.Every time I blinked, I saw flickers of him—Ethan—his silhouette shifting in the periphery of my vision, his voice threading through my thoughts like silk.You can feel it, can’t you? The power. The way it moves unde

Kayla’s POVThe rain began that night. It came softly at first, the kind that barely touched the skin—gentle, cleansing, deceptive. But it didn’t stop. Hours passed, and the sky opened wider, drowning the forest in silver sheets.Damien and I had found an old cabin half buried beneath vines and time. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter. He’d built a fire, its glow flickering across his tired face. The sound of rain filled the silence between us, rhythmic and haunting.I sat by the window, watching water streak down the glass. My reflection stared back at me—pale, hollow-eyed, alive but not whole.“You’re quiet,” Damien said behind me. His voice was low, cautious, like he was afraid one wrong word would shatter me.I turned slightly. “I don’t know what to say anymore.”He crossed the room, kneeling beside me. “Then don’t say anything.”His hand found mine, his fingers warm against my cold skin. For a while, we just sat like that, two broken pieces trying to fit together. The fire crackl