Dear Ex-wife; You'll Regret It

Chapter Six

Kaelen

Back in the ward, the room felt quieter than ever.

The only sound heard was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of the air conditioner.

Mirella sat curled on the bed, her little hands twisting the sheets. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips trembling as she tried to hold herself from bawling.

I crouched beside her, trying to smile, but my chest felt like it had been crushed.

“Hey, sunshine,” I said gently. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”

Her chin quivered. “Daddy…” Her voice was small, almost swallowed by the beeping monitors.

“Yes, baby?”

Her eyes filled with tears again. “I’m sorry.”

I froze. “Sorry? For what?”

She hiccupped, clutching the sheet tighter. “Because… because of me, Mommy hit you. If I didn’t fight with that boy, Mommy wouldn’t be angry. I made you sad. I’m… I’m a bad child.”

My throat tightened instantly. “No,” I said softly. “No baby. Don’t say that. You're not a bad child. You're the best baby girl any parent can ever ask for.”

She shook her head hard. “I'm not! Mommy’s mad at me. You got hurt because of me. I always make trouble. I—”

Before she could finish, I pulled her into my arms. Her tiny body trembled as she cried against my chest, and all I could do was hold her tighter, burying my face in her soft hair.

“Listen to me, Mirella,” I whispered. “You are not a bad child. You are the sweetest little girl in the whole world. Do you hear me?”

Her small voice wavered. “But Mommy—”

“Mommy was wrong today,” I interrupted gently. “She’s angry, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. Sometimes adults… they forget how to handle things the right way. The trouble between Mommy and Daddy has nothing to do with you, okay? You did nothing wrong.”

She sniffled. “But you were hurt…”

I chuckled softly, though it sounded hollow even to me. “This?” I pointed to the red mark still faintly visible on my forehead. “That’s nothing. Daddy’s tougher than he looks.”

She leaned closer, frowning at the spot. Her tiny fingers reached out, tracing it carefully, as if touching it might make it vanish. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all,” I lied.

Her brows furrowed in concentration. Then, she leaned forward, blew gently on my forehead, and said in her soft, serious little voice, “I’ll blow on it for you. Then it won’t hurt anymore.”

Something inside me broke. My eyes stung, but I forced a smile and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re magic.”

She giggled through her tears and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Now Daddy’s all better.”

If only it were that simple.

Holding her like that, feeling her warmth against me, I couldn’t stop the ache spreading through my chest. I’d promised to give her the world, a happy family, laughter, safety, and yet all I’d given her were hospital walls and heartbreak.

The guilt gnawed at me.

What kind of father am I, I thought, if she’s learning to apologize for things she didn’t do?

After a few moments, she grew quiet, her breathing softening against my shoulder.

I thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she murmured, “Daddy… you and Mommy won’t fight anymore, right?”

My throat tightened again. “We’ll try not to,” I said softly.

She nodded sleepily. “Promise?”

I hesitated, then whispered, “Promise.”

She smiled faintly and drifted off in my arms.

I stayed like that for a long while, staring at the ceiling, fighting the weight pressing down on my chest.

I had faced countless failures in my career, setbacks, betrayals, but none of them compared to this: watching my daughter shrink into herself because her parents couldn’t keep their hearts from breaking apart.

A light knock came at the door. I looked up to see one of the nurses peeking in.

“Mr. Kaelen,” she said politely. “There’s a man downstairs asking for you. Security stopped him since he doesn’t have clearance to come up.”

“A man?” I frowned. “Who is he?”

“He said he’s an old colleague of yours. Something about urgent medicine?”

My chest tightened. “I see. Can you stay here with Mirella? I’ll be right back.”

“Of course,” the nurse said, walking in to sit beside the bed.

I tucked the blanket around Mirella, brushed a hand through her hair, and kissed her forehead. “Daddy will be back soon, okay?”

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. I lingered another moment before stepping out.

Downstairs, near the security desk, I spotted a man in a neatly pressed shirt holding a small insulated case. When he turned, I recognized him immediately.

“Evan?” I blinked.

He broke into a smile. “Chief! It’s been forever.”

I hadn’t heard that title in years. It sounded foreign now, like a word from another lifetime.

We shook hands, and I took a closer look at him. He looked older, sharper, more confident... but the earnestness in his eyes hadn’t changed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised.

“I heard from the office that your daughter’s been sick,” he said quickly. “They said you needed the experimental serum urgently, and I was heading this way for a conference, so I volunteered to bring it myself. I thought, well, I owed you at least that much.”

He opened the case carefully, revealing two sealed vials with the company’s logo.

I felt something heavy ease inside me. “You have no idea how much this means,” I said quietly.

He smiled. “It’s the least I can do. You taught me everything I know.”

I handed the vials to the nurse at the reception desk, lowering my voice. “Please take this directly to Doctor Havel. Tell him it’s the new formula I mentioned. It’s crucial for my daughter’s treatment.”

The nurse nodded seriously and hurried away.

When I turned back, Evan was watching me with a faint, bittersweet smile. “It’s strange seeing you like this,” he said. “The last time I saw you, you were running three labs at once. Now… you’re sitting in hospitals instead of boardrooms.”

I laughed softly. “Yeah. Life changes fast.”

He gestured toward the café beside the lobby. “Got a few minutes? I’d like to buy you coffee.”

We sat by the window, the smell of roasted beans mixing with the sterile scent of antiseptic drifting from the corridor.

Evan leaned back. “You know, the project you started before you left—the regenerative series—it finally launched two years ago. The results were incredible. It’s still one of the company’s biggest successes.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

He nodded eagerly. “Everyone still talks about it. Your formulas became the foundation for half of our new products. Even the interns you used to scold have all turned into our top researchers.”

I smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “That’s good to hear.”

“You should’ve seen how proud they were,” he went on. “They still call you teacher. Some even keep your picture on their office wall.”

That hit deeper than I expected. For years, I’d told myself I’d done the right thing by walking away.

That stepping down to care for Mirella had been worth the sacrifice. And yet, sitting there now, with my marriage in shambles and my child fighting to breathe each day, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d lost everything for nothing.

Evan studied me quietly for a moment. “You look tired, sir,” he said gently. “More than before.”

I gave a humorless laugh. “That’s what happens when you trade laboratories for late-night hospital shifts.”

He hesitated, then his eyes flicked to the red mark on my forehead. “Did you… get into some kind of accident?”

I waved it off. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“Are you sure? Because if anyone’s giving you trouble—”

“Evan,” I interrupted, smiling faintly. “It’s fine. Some things aren’t worth talking about.”

He nodded reluctantly and stirred his coffee. “If you ever come back to the company, you know they’d welcome you. The board still has your name on the wall. You built the foundation we’re standing on.”

I looked down at my cup, swirling the dark liquid absently. “Maybe. But right now, my foundation’s a five-year-old girl who thinks she’s the problem.”

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence between us wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, filled with things that didn’t need to be said.

Then my phone rang.

I frowned, pulling it out of my pocket. The caller ID showed the hospital ward. My stomach dropped.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was frantic. I recognized her voice as the nurse who’d stayed behind. “Mr. Kaelen! You need to come back right now!”

My heart stopped. “What happened?”

“It’s your daughter, she’s vomiting blood! We’ve called the doctor, but she’s losing consciousness. Please, hurry!”

The cup slipped from my hand, shattering against the floor.

I didn’t wait for another word.

I was already running.