Dear Ex Wife Please take me back (Athena and Alex) novel Chapter 197

ATHENA

I began losing things at the age of seventeen.

My parents were the hardest loss I felt at such a young age. One second, I was a teenager. The next, I was an orphan. With no siblings and an aunty who hated me for reasons best known to her, I only had myself to count on.

That was until Giana found me a year later.

She treated me like I was the most precious jewel, despite my cracks. She held me like I wasn’t fragile but rare. And it made my black and white life begin to have color again.

Maybe that was why I instantly developed a crush on Alex. Because she was his blood, and I assumed, foolishly or not, that if she was warm, then he would be too.

And I wasn’t wrong.

Buried deep beneath his cold eyes, sharp tongue and ruthless temper… was a boy raised by a woman who believed in love.

“He loves you. He just doesn't know it yet.”

Her words echo in my ears now, stabbing through the silence as I stand before her casket.

Tears roll down my face.

My heart shatters into a thousand pieces as I look at the woman who gave me a second chance. The woman who gave all of us more than we ever deserved.

The chapel is full, yet it feels unbearably empty without her soft laughter, her scolding voice, and the way she would always complain about anything and everything.

Stepping away from the body viewing, I walk back to my seat on shaky legs.

Alex sits to my left, his posture unnaturally stiff. His hand immediately finds mine, and I squeeze him back, telling him silently that he's not alone.

I watch his eyes, which haven’t stopped staring at the casket since we got here.

He hasn’t spoken a word.

Not to me. Not to anyone.

He’s completely silent.

But I know he’s screaming on the inside.

Sloane sits beside him, silently weeping. Ian’s arm is around her shoulders, steady but broken in his own way. Even Noah, who rarely shows emotion anymore, stands with a clenched jaw, pain flickering behind his otherwise calm expression.

Ariana is holding her husband, trying to breathe life into him. Or attempting to, because clearly it's not working.

Giana touched all of us.

She was the glue. The anchor. The matriarch of chaos who made life make sense.

And now she’s gone.

The priest says something, and everyone stands. Alex holds my waist, trying to anchor me, which makes my heart ache.

He's hurting more than I am, and yet he's still trying to provide comfort for me.

I glance up at him, but his eyes are unreadable. Hardened and empty. Like the moment she took her last breath, something inside him was buried too.

We find ourselves at the burial site. Everything is a blur because of how out of focus we are.

Everyone is silent as we watch the casket begin its slow descent.

Sloane lets out a loud, painful sob. Ian tightens his grip on her shoulders, his head bowed low, but his jaw is clenched. Something he does when he feels hopeless.

Ariana doesn’t cry loudly, though, but the way she’s holding onto her husband, as if he might crumble right there, says everything.

I reach for Alex’s hand again, and this time, I feel it.

The tremble.

So slight, anyone else would miss it. But not me.

I look up again, and our eyes meet.

He’s not the man the world knows right now.

He’s not the untouchable Alexander King.

Not the ruthless, cold billionaire with a reputation built on fear.

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