Dear Ex-wife; You'll Regret It

Chapter Two

Riley

Riley tugged the zipper of her bag closed with one hand, balancing the half-empty plate of cake with the other. Her motions were careful, almost mechanical, though her mind drifted elsewhere.

The living room still bore the remnants of Aiden’s party—balloons that sagged against the ceiling, frosting smudged across plates, and bright candy wrappers scattered like confetti from the piñata. The sweet smell of sugar lingered in the air, mixed with the faint sharpness of latex balloons.

On the couch, Aiden lay sprawled out like a miniature king after a feast, his cheeks sticky with chocolate, his little body fighting the inevitable pull of sleep. His small party hat had slid sideways, tilting comically on his messy hair, making him look like a mischievous elf who had stayed up too long past midnight. He yawned widely, then tried to smother it, shaking his head stubbornly as if that alone could banish fatigue.

Riley smiled faintly. “Alright, birthday boy,” she said, setting the plate down on the coffee table and giving his knee a light tap. “I really need to go now.”

Immediately, his bottom lip jutted out in protest, his eyes flashing with all the determination only a child could muster. “Nooo. Stay. You didn’t even sing me a bedtime song yet.”

The plea squeezed at her chest. Riley chuckled softly, though her laughter was more a cover for the guilt that licked at her ribs like fire. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day,” she murmured, trying to keep her voice light. “And sugar. Lots and lots of sugar.”

From the kitchen doorway, Darren appeared, balancing two mugs of tea. The steam rose in curling wisps, fogging his tired face, though his eyes carried warmth. He looked every bit the exhausted father—shirt rumpled, shoulders slouched—but there was pride there too, the quiet kind that softened the edges of fatigue.

“He’s not wrong, you know,” Darren said, a small smile playing at his lips as he crossed the room. “He usually crashes by now, but ever since you started visiting, he makes excuses to stay awake longer.”

Riley raised a brow at him, fighting the flutter that sparked in her chest at the remark. “So it’s my fault?”

Darren chuckled, placing the mugs down and crouching beside his son. His hand ruffled Aiden’s hair with practiced ease. “Hey, champ,” he coaxed, “how about Riley helps tuck you in tonight? Just this once?”

Riley froze. Her instinct was to refuse immediately. She had somewhere to be. Mirella was waiting. The guilt of missing her daughter’s birthday was already gnawing through her, sharp and relentless. Every second here felt like betrayal.

But then Aiden looked up at her. His eyes were wide, brimming with a hope so raw it was almost unbearable. His small fingers clutched her sleeve, as though afraid she might slip through his grasp if he loosened his hold.

“Please?” he whispered. The single word was heavy, too heavy for someone so small to carry, yet he offered it up without hesitation.

Darren straightened, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice deliberately casual. “Don’t worry, it’ll only take a few minutes. I know you’ve got… things to do.” The words were light, but Riley caught the edge beneath them, the same edge she always heard when he asked for favors. He never wanted to appear desperate, but the fatigue written in his expression betrayed him.

Her chest constricted. One minute, she told herself. One minute wouldn’t hurt. She could give them that much, couldn’t she?

“Alright, fine,” she sighed, though her voice carried more weight than she intended. “But just a quick story. Then bed.”

Aiden’s face lit up, his entire body bouncing with triumph as though he’d just won some great victory. He tugged her hand, dragging her eagerly toward his room. Darren followed behind, lingering in the doorway while Riley perched on the edge of the little bed covered in superhero sheets.

Aiden wriggled beneath the covers, still clutching Riley’s hand like it was his anchor. His party hat had finally fallen to the floor, forgotten in his determination to keep her near.

“You know what would be the best birthday gift ever?” he asked, voice muffled by the pillow.

Riley smoothed his hair back from his forehead, already bracing herself for some impossible request—a puppy, a trip to the moon, perhaps. “What’s that?” she asked softly.

“If you stayed here every night.” His words came out matter-of-fact, innocent and devastating in equal measure. “Then I wouldn’t need to wish for a new mom, because you’d already be mine.”

The sentence pierced her like an arrow. Riley’s throat closed, her chest twisting with pain. She forced herself to meet his gaze, but the sincerity in his eyes only deepened the wound.

From the doorway, Darren’s expression flickered—first surprise, then embarrassment, before softening into something else. Something Riley didn’t dare name. Something almost pleading.

“Aiden,” Darren murmured, careful and gentle, “that’s not something you just say—”

“But it’s true,” Aiden cut in stubbornly. He turned back toward Riley, his eyes wide and guileless. “Dad likes you. I like you. That means you should stay.”

Riley swallowed hard, her hand trembling as it brushed his bangs from his forehead. “That’s sweet, Aiden,” she whispered. “But right now, your gift to me is going to sleep without arguing. Deal?”

His pout deepened, but after a long pause, he nodded. His grip on her hand loosened, little by little, until his breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Riley lingered only a moment longer before pulling away. She rose carefully, her heart heavier than when she’d first sat down.

Darren’s voice followed her into the hall, low and sincere. “Thanks. You have no idea how much that helps.”

She forced a smile in return, but inside the guilt gnawed sharper than before. Mirella. She needed to go—

Her phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Again.

Riley ignored it at first, slipping her bag over her shoulder. But it didn’t stop. The vibration rattled against her palm like an accusation she couldn’t escape. Finally, with a huff of frustration, she swiped to answer.

“What?”

“Riley—where the hell are you?” Kaelen’s voice crackled through the line, ragged and frantic.

Her blood ran cold. “I—what are you—”

“It’s Mirella,” he interrupted, voice breaking. “She collapsed. She’s in critical condition. They barely stabilized her. You need to come. Now.”

The world tilted beneath her feet. Her lungs locked. “Critical condition?” she whispered.

“Yes!” Kaelen’s voice cracked like shattered glass. “Do I need to beg you? Get here before… Just get here!”

The line went dead.

Riley bolted. She didn’t wait to explain. She didn’t tell Darren goodbye. She just ran, keys clenched in her hand, the weight of her guilt heavier with every step.

★

By the time she reached the hospital, Riley’s chest was burning, her body shaking with exhaustion and fear. The sterile hallways stretched endlessly, her shoes squeaking against the polished floors. Each fluorescent light buzzed overhead, too bright, too cold, pressing against her vision until her stomach twisted violently.

At the reception desk, a nurse directed her toward the general ward when she asked for Mirella. “She’s stable now,” the nurse said. Stable. The word cut both ways—comfort and punishment, a reprieve laced with accusation.

Riley pushed into the dimly lit room, breath shuddering. And there she was.

Mirella.

Her daughter looked so small, so fragile, swallowed by stiff white sheets and harsh fluorescent light. Her skin was pale, her frame almost lost against the expanse of the hospital bed.

Riley sank into the chair beside the bed, exhaustion tugging at her features. She stared at her daughter’s pale face, the steady rise and fall of her chest. It should’ve been comforting, but instead, it only made her jaw tighten.

“How many times now?” she muttered under her breath. “How many times do we have to do this?”

Her eyes burned… not with tears, but with irritation she couldn’t quite swallow.

Every hospital room looked the same and smelled the same. Sterile, suffocating.

And every time, Kaelen somehow managed to make her look like the bad one, while he was swooping in like a hero.

She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Mirella’s forehead. “You just can’t stop scaring people, can you?” she said softly, almost to herself. “Always needing someone to save you.”

With a sigh, she opened her bag and pulled out the small box she’d been carrying all day. Inside, the necklace glimmered faintly—a silver chain with a tiny heart charm.

She set it on the pillow beside her daughter with a sharp exhale.

“There. Happy belated birthday,” she murmured, voice flat. “Let’s hope this one doesn’t end up tangled in your IV.”

She leaned back in the chair, folding her arms, her gaze flicking briefly to the door.

If Kaelen dared to walk in again with that self-righteous look on his face, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself from screaming.

Her vision tunneled as she turned toward the door—

And found Kaelen there.

His expression was unreadable, but the fury burning in his eyes was sharp enough to wound.

“Where were you?” he asked. His voice was low, trembling with rage and fear.

Riley stiffened, anger rising like a shield. “Where was I? You’re her father. You were supposed to be with her. And you weren’t. You let her collapse while you—what? Took a walk?”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t twist this on me. I stepped out for ten minutes to get her food. Ten minutes. And you—” He jabbed a finger at her, his face twisting with anguish. “You left her waiting the entire day. Do you have any idea how long she asked for you? How many times she asked why her mom didn’t come?”

Shame seared through Riley’s chest, but she shoved it down, letting defensiveness rise like armor. “I had things to do. Urgent things. I texted you.”

“Busy all day?” Kaelen spat, mocking her words.

“Yes,” she snapped back. “I don’t need to account for every second of my life. It’s my private life.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and jagged. “Private life? You call spending the whole day with someone else’s child your private life? While your own daughter—our daughter—lies here?”

The words hit their mark. Riley flinched, her breath catching, fury sparking to smother the guilt that threatened to consume her. “You’ve been spying on me?” she hissed.

Kaelen’s silence was answer enough.

Before the storm between them could break, her phone buzzed again. She snatched it up, relief mixing with dread. Darren’s name glowed on the screen.

“Riley,” his voice was low, strained with fatigue. “Sorry to bother you. Aiden had a nightmare. He’s asking for you.”

Her heart clenched violently. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised quickly. “Tell him to wait for me.”

When the call ended, Kaelen was staring at her, his face a storm of disbelief and fury.

“I don’t want to argue,” Riley said coldly, shoving the phone into her bag. “You take care of Mirella. I’ll go check on Aiden.”

“You’re choosing them. Again.” His voice cracked with quiet rage, the words like shards of glass between them.

Riley didn’t answer. She didn’t look back. She simply walked away, each step heavier than the last, leaving Kaelen—and her sleeping daughter—behind.