A Divorce He Regrets

Chapter 213:

“You worry too much, Raina,” Grandma said, not looking up at me. Her voice was soft but teasing.

I chuckled weakly. “Maybe. But I just can’t help it.”

“Well, you try. The boy’s all right,” she said, nodding toward Liam with a faint smile.

And, of course, she was right. As I watched Liam take slow, purposeful spoonfuls of the soup, the color slowly returning to his cheeks, that tight coil in my chest finally began to unknot.

For the first time all day, I allowed myself a breath.

The next two days felt different, lighter. I made it a point to spend as much time with Ava and Liam as I could. We played silly games in the living room, built castles out of pillows, and read stories late into the night. The guilt that had been my constant companion—the ache of not being there enough for them—began to lift.

Alex kept me posted on everything happening at home. His voice was always reassuringly steady. Sometimes, he would slip in a flirtatious comment or two, making me smile despite myself. Every phone call ended the same: with an “I love you.”

“And the kids too,” he added quickly, almost as if to dilute the closeness of those words.

I couldn’t help but think he was calling more often just to say it, like he needed me to hear it.

While his words warmed me, they also planted a seed of anxiety. Once all of this was over, we’d need to talk. Really talk. About us, about everything. The thought of that conversation loomed over me, both hopeful and terrifying.noveldrama

It was late, and I was getting ready for bed when Alex called once more. On the second ring, I answered and sat back against the headboard, curling my legs under the blankets.

“Still awake?” he asked, his voice low and playful.

“Barely,” I admitted, stifling another yawn. “How’s everything going there?”

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The pause on the line was long enough to make me realize something wasn’t quite right.

“Alex?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he finally said, his tone turning serious.

I sat up straighter, my heart picking up speed. “What is it?”

He hesitated again, and I could almost hear him carefully choosing his words.

“My agent called earlier,” he began. “Adelaide’s dead, Raina. They found her in her cell. She was strangled.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“She’s dead,” he repeated, his voice grim.

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My mind raced, struggling to process what he’d just said. Adelaide—dead? Strangled?

“Did she… did she make enemies that fast in prison?” I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s possible,” Alex said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

I shuddered, clutching the phone tighter to my ear. A cold draft crawled down my spine. If Adelaide’s death wasn’t a random act, then… what did it mean?

“I don’t like this, Alex,” I said. “It feels… too convenient.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But I need you to stay focused, Raina. Don’t let this drag you into a tailspin, okay? Just stay safe. Stick with the kids. I’ll deal with this end.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay,” I whispered.

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