THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 78: Signed, But Never Separated

Chapter 78: Signed, But Never Separated

Heather remembered the day clearly. She had signed the divorce papers herself—signed them and left them on the desk in his office.

She didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or laugh at the cruel twist of it all.

Still married.

And now, signing a new marriage certificate wouldn’t even matter. Because the first one had never truly ended.

Heather let out a slow breath. She wasn’t sure what this meant for her plan. But one thing was clear now—Caius knew. He had known this whole time, and he hadn’t said a word.

Instead, he kept asking her to marry him. Asking, with that same cold, unreadable face he always wore, knowing full well they never stopped being husband and wife.

Although, she couldn’t help but wonder why he kept it away from her.

Now they were sitting in the car, on their way back to the hospital, and Heather couldn’t decide if she wanted to scream at him or pretend the whole thing never happened.

She stared out the window. Her reflection looked tired, pale, worn down. Her heart was beating fast.

She tried focusing on her breathing. In and out. In and out. But nothing could settle the weight sitting heavily in her chest.

She didn’t want to talk to Caius.She didn’t even want to think about him. All she could think about was Alex.

She wanted to be at the hospital already. Every minute in this car felt like a minute too far away from him.

But at the same time, she was scared of getting there. Scared of what might be waiting. What if the surgery didn’t go well?

What if they were just pulling into the parking lot so the doctors could deliver the news? What if this whole drive had been delaying the inevitable?

Her hands gripped the seatbelt across her chest. Her knuckles turned pale. She didn’t even notice how tightly she was holding it until her fingers started to ache.

She shifted in her seat, trying to breathe, but her head was spinning from too many thoughts. Too many maybes and what-ifs.

She let out a slow breath, trying to push the pressure down deep in her chest, hoping it would stay buried. But it didn’t.

Instead, her eyes burned and at the same time, her throat tightened. She bit her bottom lip hard, but the tears still found their way to the surface.

One slipped down her cheek. She wiped it quickly, as if hiding it would keep everything else from falling apart.

Why was she crying? She never cried. She had been through worse. She had always handled it. She had been strong. Always strong.

But maybe all the strength she had carried through the years was used up now. Maybe it had finally run out.

She thought of the day Alex was born. She remembered walking into the nursery at the hospital, scanning all the babies in their tiny bassinets until her eyes landed on him.

Her son and world. She had never loved anything the way she loved him. And since that day, her greatest fear had always been losing him. Even now, that fear was clawing at her chest like a storm.

She never had another child. Never even seriously dated anyone. Mostly because Alex hated the idea. He would always find a way to sabotage her attempts at moving on.

She smiled weakly at the memory.

There was one time she had plans for dinner with a film producer. It was nothing serious—just dinner.

But she wore a new ring that night, one she had picked up on her way home just because she liked how it looked. Alex saw the ring and assumed the worst.

The next morning, the producer called her, furious. He told her he showed up to the restaurant and the hostess said he had a call waiting.

When he picked up, a child’s voice told him, very seriously, that the woman he was meeting already had two husbands and was under FBI investigation.

Heather had nearly choked on her coffee when she heard. That little prankster. He had even faked a static phone line to make his voice sound "deep and official."

Now, she was back at the hospital, her heart drumming in her ears as the car pulled into the parking garage. The cold air from the elevator made her arms prickle.

She rubbed them slowly, glancing around as if searching for where the chill was coming from. But there was no vent, no AC unit. Still, she couldn’t shake the cold feeling crawling down her spine.

*Ding.*

They reached their floor.

"No!!!"

The first thing she saw, when she was about to step out, was a woman in the hallway. She was screaming—sobbing uncontrollably—her body shaking with grief as a man, maybe her husband, tried to hold her still. It was the kind of heartbreak that clung to the air.

Heather’s eyes flicked past them and caught sight of a bed inside the room.

A white sheet pulled up to the shoulders of someone lying still.

Her stomach turned.

She had to keep moving. But she couldn’t stop looking. For a moment, she imagined herself as that woman. And the person on the bed... not Alex, but Caius.

A part of her quickly shook the thought from her mind. It was too dark. She didn’t want to think like that.

She bumped into someone. She had been too busy staring at the body in the ward, she wasn’t aware of where she was going.

"Sorry," she barely muttered and kept walking. Caius was now ahead of her, he walked straight to the nurses at the reception. She wanted to go with him, but she stopped in the hallway. Letting him find out first.

Heather swallowed the moment she saw Caius talking to the nurses.

She pressed her head against the wall. She hated this and the uncertainty, it made her whole body shake.

She even tried distracting herself, but looking up at the ceiling. She had never believed in much, not in faith or miracles. But right now—if anything was out there—She hoped it would give her one.

Heather inhaled deeply the moment she saw Caius walking towards her, his face didn’t give away anything.

"Is he..." Her voice failed her briefly. "Alive?"

"The surgery was done hours ago." Caius said briefly.

She looked at him, urging him to continue, but that was all he said. He had never really been good at reading signs, and she found that strange.

"And?"

He didn’t say anything at first, he just let the tension and silence ride out. That made Heather’s heart drop; he wasn’t giving her anything. The tears had began to form again, and she tried blinking it back in.

His silence almost confirmed something she didn’t want to know, until she saw the small smile forming at the corner of his lips.

He was trying to hold off a smile.

Why was he trying to hold a smile especially at a very sensitive time like this? Except, Alex was okay.

"He’s..."

"Yes." He said, not letting her confirm it.

Heather couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears came, but not from fear this time. From relief and joy. From the overwhelming weight finally lifting off her chest.

She cried freely now. And she didn’t care how she looked.

Her baby had made it; he was alive.