Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband
Chapter 23: Daddy Is Not Waking Up!

Chapter 23: Daddy Is Not Waking Up!

Claire’s POV

"Ring...

Ring...

Ring..."

My phone rang incessantly, cutting through the heavy haze of sleep. I had finally fallen asleep after taking my insomnia pills, but someone clearly had other plans for me. With my eyes still closed, I fumbled for the phone on the bedside table and pressed it to my ear.

"Hello?" I mumbled; my voice was groggy.

"Sob... Mommy!" A child’s voice wailed on the other end, and I froze. Mommy? My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t have a child.

"Son, you must have dialed the wrong number. I am not—"

"Daddy! He... he is not opening his eyes..." The panic in the child’s voice snapped me fully awake. I jerked upright in bed, the haze of sleep evaporating.

"Wait—what? What is going on?" I rasped, glancing at the screen; my pulse quickened as I saw the number flashing there. Evander. The same number I had memorized and called countless times, hoping for answers. My throat tightened as a thousand questions whirled in my mind.

"Daddy keeps calling your name. He is asking for you!" The boy cried, his voice more frantic now, but before I could understand, the line went dead.

"Hello? Hello!" I called out, but there was nothing. I stared at the phone, my heart pounding, as I tried to process what had just happened. My mind raced to put the pieces together. Evander... something must have happened to him, and the kid was all alone. That child, Eliam, sounded so scared.

Fear crawled over me like a cold shiver. My hands shook as I dialed Evander’s number back, but all I got was the automated voice telling me his phone was off.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, throwing the phone aside. My pulse hammered in my ears as I scrambled out of bed, my heart tight with a feeling I couldn’t shake— fear. Not just for Evander, but for myself, for whatever was waiting for me at that house.

Even after everything, even after five years of trying to hate him, the idea of something happening to Evander made the walls I had built around my heart crumble instantly. I pulled on the nearest clothes and ran downstairs. Within minutes, I was in a taxi, racing toward Kensington Mansion.

Forty-five minutes later, I stood at the front door of the place I had once called home— the place where my dreams and hopes had both flourished and shattered.

I rang the bell again and again, not caring if it was late or if anyone was asleep. I needed to know what was going on. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open.

Standing there on a small stool was Eliam, his tiny frame trembling. His cheeks were streaked with tears, and his eyes swollen from crying.

"Mom!" he sobbed, throwing his arms around my waist. His voice broke my heart. I didn’t even correct him this time— I just hugged him back, my own tears threatening to spill over.

"Shh, shh," I soothed him, rubbing his back gently. "It’s okay, Mommy here now..." My voice trailed off as the word ’Mommy’ left my lips without hesitation. It felt foreign and familiar all at once. I wasn’t his mother. But in that moment, I couldn’t bear to let him go.

Eliam pulled back slightly, his wide eyes searching mine for comfort. I could feel the weight of his fear in the way he clung to me, and something deep inside me shifted. What had this poor child gone through? Why was there no one here to take care of him?

"Where is Daddy?" I asked gently, lifting him into my arms as he pointed upstairs.

I walked through the hallway, memories rushing at me from all sides. Every step toward the bedroom was like peeling back layers of an old wound. The nights I had waited for Evander, the mornings when I woke up alone, and the endless days filled with silent despair.

"He is in there," Eliam whispered, pointing to the closed door.

I pushed it open, heart pounding in my chest— and what I saw stopped me cold.

Evander was lying motionless on the bed, his usually strong, commanding presence reduced to a lifeless figure. His face was pale, and his breath came in shallow, labored gasps. Empty bottles of alcohol littered the floor around him, and the room reeked of stale air and regret.

"What the hell...?" My voice was barely a whisper as I took in the scene. This was not the man I had known. What had happened to him?

Tears burned my eyes as I approached the bed. Eliam’s small hand tightened around my neck as he buried his face in my shoulder.

"Daddy wouldn’t wake up. He kept calling for you," Eliam mumbled through his tears. "Please help him, Mommy."

I felt my throat close up as I looked down at Evander. He looked broken, and it crushed something inside me to see him like this. No matter how hard I had tried to hate him, seeing him in this state made it impossible.

"Evander," I whispered, gently shaking him. "Evander, wake up."

He didn’t respond. I sat on the edge of the bed, fear gnawing at me. What had he done to himself? How long had he been like this? I reached for my phone with shaking hands and called for a doctor.

As I waited, I looked at Eliam, his tear-streaked face staring at me with hope. How did things end up like this? How did I come back here, to this moment, where I could feel my heart breaking all over again?

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What will Claire do now? Will she go back to Evander or will she stay away from him?

Comment below to let me know?

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