Chapter 226: Wounded Return, No Wife or Child

Alexander’s POV

I lay there staring at the sterile hospital ceiling, tracing the web of tiny cracks like they were a roadmap out of this nightmare. Anything to drown out my mother's nonstop lecture—she'd been at it for a solid forty-five minutes since barging in like a woman on a mission.

"Honestly, Alexander, what the hell were you thinking?" She fussed with my pillows for the umpteenth time, fluffing them with way too much force. "You haul ass to Highcrest City and come back battered instead of bringing home your wife and son. Now they're over there, and you're stuck here like some helpless invalid."

I winced as the pillow jabbed my neck. "Mom, come on—"

"Don't 'Mom, come on' me." She crossed her arms, her perfectly coiffed hair not a strand out of place. "Daisy was keeping me company back in Kingsley City until your little escapade. Then poof—she's off to Highcrest because the Traynors needed backup."

My temples pounded like a damn drum. I just wanted silence.

"You're over thirty, Alexander. And here I am, sixty-two, babying you like you're back in high school with the flu."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I need rest, Mom. Doctor's orders."

"Rest? You've been lounging for days." She yanked the blanket straight, even though it was already military-neat. "What you need is to drag your butt out of this bed and fight for your family."

"I can barely stand for ten minutes," I shot back, though that was stretching the truth—I could manage more, but why bother?

"Excuses," she scoffed, waving her manicured hand like she was swatting a fly. "The only daughter-in-law I'll ever accept is Nora, and Aiden's my only grandson. I won't watch you toss them aside like yesterday's trash."

I shifted in the bed, the sheets rustling against my skin. The physical aches had dulled to a low hum, but the guilt? That was a knife twisting in my gut.

"You're strong enough to get up, Alexander. You're damn well capable of marching back to Highcrest and fixing this disaster."

I gazed out the window at the jagged Kingsley City skyline, steel and glass glinting under the afternoon sun. "There's nothing to fix, Mom."

She froze mid-pace, her green eyes—mirror images of mine—narrowing like laser beams. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

I swallowed hard, the words tasting like bile as I forced them out—the ones I'd been chewing on since waking up in this godforsaken room. "I've only ever brought Nora pain. When she was pregnant with the twins, she lost one because of me."

Her face softened, just a fraction. "Alexander—"

"No, hear me out. I was a monster to her. Accused her of cheating, of pinning some other guy's kid on me. Forced paternity tests. Humiliated her in front of everyone." Shame burned hot in my chest, making my voice crack. "Even after Aiden was born, I was a ghost—barely there for my own son."

"That was before," she pressed, her tone fierce but pleading. "Before the accident wiped your memory clean of her—of everything about Nora and the baby—while you remembered the rest of us just fine."

"Doesn't matter. Memory or not, I've never made her happy." I locked eyes with her, steady as steel. "The best thing I can do for Nora and Aiden is bow out. Wish them well from afar."

"Bullshit." The word sounded downright foreign coming from my polished mom's lips, but she spat it like venom. "Absolute bullshit, Alexander. Nora doesn't hold it against you—she gets it, the confusion, the memory wipe—"

"That's not the point," I interrupted, my voice rising. "Even before I forgot her, I was a shitty husband. A stranger to my kid."

"So your grand plan is to bail?" Her pitch climbed, echoing off the walls. "Let some other guy slide into your spot?"

I flinched, the image hitting like a punch. "Is that... happening?"

"It will if you keep wallowing in this bed!" She leaned in, her perfume—something floral and sharp—invading my space. "Men don't wait for chances, Alexander. You taught me that. And they sure as hell don't let gorgeous, kind-hearted women pine away forever."

A sharp knock shattered the tension, and Jason sauntered in with his trademark zero-fucks-given vibe, breaking the standoff like a pro.

"Yo, invalid," he grinned, then spotted my mom and dialed up the charm. "Mrs. Hayes! Radiant as ever."

"Jason." Her voice warmed instantly—she'd always had a soft spot for my oldest buddy. "Maybe you can knock some sense into this bullheaded son of mine."

Jason's brows shot up as he dragged a chair over. "First time for everything." He plopped down, legs stretching out. "Actually, I've got some news that might do the job. The bad kind."

My gut twisted. "Spill it."

"The kind where someone's gunning to erase you from the picture. For good." His usual smirk faded, replaced by a rare seriousness that set my nerves on edge.

"Who?" Mom demanded, on high alert.

"Today's the big day, right?" He leaned back, casual but coiled. "Aiden's getting discharged from Highcrest Hospital."

I nodded, jaw tight. "Yeah. And?"

"And the whole Traynor crew's turned it into a family extravaganza." Jason whipped out his phone, thumbing through it. "Liam's been feeding me updates."

Mom crowded in, their heads nearly bumping as they whispered over the screen. I strained to catch snippets, my pulse picking up.

"You know Charles Smith? The heir to that old-money empire?" Jason asked.

Mom's face paled. "I've seen him hanging around Aiden before."

"He's not subtle about eyeing Nora," Jason continued, his tone dropping like a bomb. "And the Traynors? They're practically laying out the red carpet. Check this."

He angled the phone my way. The photo hit like a gut punch: a festively decked-out hospital room, balloons everywhere. Aiden in the middle, grinning ear-to-ear. Nora next to him, worn out but radiant. And right there, way too close, was Charles goddamn Smith, clutching a massive bouquet like he owned the place.

"He brought her flowers," Jason said, stating the obvious. "Liam says the guy's been there almost daily since Aiden's accident."

Mom gasped. "That's outrageous! Nora's married!"

Jason swiped to another shot: the Traynors around a massive dining table, a "welcome home" spread. Aiden perched on Richard's lap, Charlotte dishing out food, Liam and Daisy cozy. And again, Charles—parked right beside Nora, leaning in with that intimate whisper-smile.

"When was this?" I asked, my voice eerily calm, even as jealousy simmered under my skin.

"An hour ago," Jason replied. "Liam says Charles got an invite to Aiden's big homecoming bash."

I nodded, a weird numbness washing over me, sharpening my thoughts. "Good."

"Good?" Mom echoed, her voice cracking with disbelief.

"Yeah, good that Nora's got someone." I sounded steadier than I felt, the words like lead. "I walked away. I chose this. Charles... he's solid."

"Solid?" Her tone hit screech levels.

"Respectable family, no dirt on him. He's tight with the Traynors for years." I pushed on, ignoring the ache in my chest. "And they approve—that means everything to her."

Jason gawked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Dude, you're seriously gonna serve up your wife and kid to Charles on a platter?"

I met his stare, unflinching. "It's not about me. It's what's best for them."

"This is insane!" Mom erupted, her body shaking with fury. "You're okay with another man raising your son? Loving your wife? You can't just ditch the people who need you!"

"I'm not ditching," I said softly, but firm. "I'm setting them free."

Her face twisted in raw frustration, eyes blazing. When she finally spoke, her voice boomed through the room, rattling the walls.

"ALEXANDER!"