Dear Ex-wife; You'll Regret It

Chapter Three

Kaelen

The sound of her footsteps faded down the corridor, sharp against the cold tiles until they dissolved into nothing but silence.

I stood rooted outside Mirella’s ward, my chest hollow. My wife—no, Riley—hadn’t even looked back. She walked away without hesitation, as though the sight of her daughter hooked up to monitors meant less than a nightmare in another man’s house.

My lips twisted into something that was supposed to be a smile, but it burned bitter in my throat. I pressed a hand against the wall, willing the rage to stay caged. I had promised myself not to hate her, not to let resentment poison what little thread still bound us. But tonight… tonight she’d cut me open with her choice.

A nightmare versus a child who almost lost her life. And Riley chose the nightmare.

For a moment, my vision blurred. I blinked rapidly, forcing the sting away. I had believed—foolishly—that she was changing. That she was letting go of Darren, of the ghost of that broken family she clung to. I had thought Mirella’s birthday would prove that we were her priority now. But instead… she left our daughter for them.

Them.

In her heart, it wasn’t me and Mirella. It was Riley, Darren, and Aiden—the three of them, snug in their little picture-perfect world.

I wanted to smash something, to scream, but the soft sound of Mirella’s breathing drifted through the slightly open door and anchored me. I couldn’t break here. Not in front of her.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, frowning at the unfamiliar overseas code. “Kaelen,” I answered, voice rough.

“Sir,” the voice on the other end panted, laced with excitement, “it’s done. We followed your formula precisely. The trials are holding. The serum—Medicine A—it’s real. We already shipped it overnight. It should reach you tomorrow.”

I staggered back against the wall, my knees nearly giving way. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I let myself breathe fully. “You’re certain?” My voice cracked.

“As certain as we can be without full distribution,” the subordinate said quickly. “It works. This… this could change everything.”

I closed my eyes. Relief washed through me, cool and overwhelming. “Thank you,” I whispered, clutching the phone.

“You don’t need to thank me, Chief,” he said, reverence heavy in his tone. “We’ve only been able to push this far because of you. When will you return? The board is desperate. The whole department is still yours if you want it.”

Return. The word echoed in my chest.

Once, not long ago, I had been more than just a husband hanging on by a fraying thread. I had been the chief scientist at one of the top biopharmaceutical companies in the country, head of an elite team designing drugs that promised to rewrite medical history. My name carried weight in every lab, every journal.

And then Mirella was born. Fragile, with a body that fought itself harder than it fought the world.

Riley couldn’t handle it alone, and I couldn’t stand being the kind of father who only visited between meetings. So I’d resigned. Handed over the empire I built, walked away from acclaim, and buried myself in diapers, feeding tubes, and late-night rocking chairs. I gave it all up, believing I’d chosen right—for her, for Riley, for us.

And yet, here we were. My daughter in a hospital bed, my wife in another man’s arms.

Now that hope had arrived, shimmering in the form of Medicine A, I whispered into the phone, “Tell them I’ll be back soon. I owe my daughter a future. And I won’t let her down.”

The line clicked dead, and I slipped the phone into my pocket. My gaze shifted toward Mirella’s room again, softening. For her, I would rise again.

★

Morning came, the pale yellow sunlight creeping through the blinds. I was half-dozing in the chair beside her when Mirella stirred. She blinked, eyes finding me instantly.

“Daddy,” she rasped, then froze, spotting the necklace on her pillow. Her face lit up, brighter than the sun. “Did Mommy… did Mommy come?”

Her hope stabbed me.

“Yes,” I lied smoothly, forcing my voice calm. “She was here for a long time. Almost until dawn. But then her company called her away. She didn’t want to wake you.”

Her lips trembled with a soft smile. “I slept too long. If I stayed awake, I could’ve seen her.”

I brushed her hair back gently. “If you listen to the doctor and get better, Mommy will come again. She promised.”

Mirella clutched the necklace, holding it up to me. “Help me wear it?”

“Of course.” My fingers were steady as I fastened the delicate chain around her neck. She touched it reverently, beaming.

A knock on the door interrupted us. A nurse stepped in, cheerful. “Time for some sunlight, sweetheart. Just a short walk.”

I nodded, watching as she led Mirella away in her wheelchair, my chest aching with both pride and sorrow.

I turned down the corridor, stretching stiffly, and almost collided with a figure leaning casually against the wall.

“Kaelen,” Darren drawled, his tone lazy but laced with mock warmth. “What a coincidence. I came here for my monthly check-up and I heard about Mirella. Poor girl… I heard she fainted again.”

My jaw tightened. “She’s stable.”

Darren nodded slowly, almost relieved, though his eyes glimmered with something smug. “That’s good. Still, she seems so fragile, doesn’t she? Riley mentioned she’s been too busy with work lately to keep up with Mirella’s treatments. Said she relies on you for most of it.” He gave a pitying smile. “That must be exhausting for you.”

The words pricked sharp beneath the surface. “Riley does what she can.”

“Oh, of course,” Darren said smoothly, stepping closer. “She tries. But you know… she always talks about how guilty she feels. She said once she was afraid she wouldn’t be enough for her daughter. Sometimes, I wonder if she really wants this life. She looks so tired when she’s with you.”

My fists clenched. “Excuse you?”

He chuckled, feigning innocence. “Ah, I shouldn’t have said that. But it's just… casual chats, you know? She tells me things when she drops by. She’s thoughtful like that. Like how she brings me supplements, keeps track of my sleep schedule.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “Last week, she told me she wished she had more peace. That maybe Mirella would be better off… elsewhere. A school, perhaps.”

Blood pounded in my ears.

He studied me, eyes gleaming with quiet triumph. “But oh well, it isn't my decision to make. You really married a remarkable woman, Kaelen. Beautiful, successful… considerate. She worries so much about you and her daughter, while still trying to take care of me and my kid. I almost envy you.” His smile sharpened. “Almost.”

I forced my lips into a thin smile, though it tasted of iron. “Then you’d better treasure the parts of her while you can—before I lose patience.”

Darren tilted his head, mock sympathy dripping from his tone. “Ohh don’t you worry. I do.”

Before I could snap back, hurried footsteps echoed. The nurse who had just taken Mirella downstairs burst into view, flushed and breathless.

“Mr. Kaelen! Quick—your daughter—she’s fighting with other children downstairs!”

My blood ran cold.

Without another word, I shoved past Darren, heart pounding, and sprinted after the nurse.