Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Alexander POV,

The morning sunlight streamed through the large windows of my penthouse, putting a golden hue over the room. I could hear the soft hum of chatter coming from the kitchen, where the maids were helping the kids freshen up. Emma’s giggles and Ethan’s more serious tone were a comforting contrast to the usual silence of my mornings

I leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching as the chef carefully prepared breakfast–pancakes, eggs, and bacon, just the way the kids liked it. I hadn’t seen them this happy in a long time. Last night had been… perfect. They were relaxed, full of questions about everything in the house, and for once, I felt like I was giving them something they needed–me.

The chef placed the plates on the table, and I called out to the kids. “Breakfast is ready!”

Emma came running in first, her hair still slightly damp from her bath, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the food. “Daddy! Pancakes!” she squealed, climbing into her seat with a big grin. Ethan followed shortly, more composed but with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You made sure the pancakes have extra syrup, right?” Ethan asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he examined the plate in

front of him.

I chuckled, nodding. “Of course. Extra syrup, just like you asked.”

Emma was already halfway through her first pancake, syrup smeared on her cheeks, while Ethan took a more careful bite. The room was filled with the sound of their chatter as they started telling me about their favorite cartoons and how they wanted to go to the park later. I nodded along, letting their voices wash over me, feeling that rare sense of peace.

Just as I was about to take a sip of my coffee, the doorbell rang. My brow furrowed. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Hold on a second,” I told the kids, standing up and walking toward the door. When I opened it, I felt my stomach drop.

There she was my mother, Margret Alistair, standing in the hallway with her commanding posture, her lips pressed into a thin line, though I could see the excitement in her eyes.

She was the picture of control, every inch of her perfectly polished, from her tailored suit to her coiffed hair. I hadn’t seen her in person in a while, and frankly, I wasn’t ready for whatever she had planned.

“Mother,” I greeted, forcing a smile. “This is… a surprise.”

Her eyes flicked past me into the apartment, her expression softening slightly when she spotted the kids at the table. “I heard the children were staying with you for the night. I thought it was about time I met my grandchildren properly.”

I stepped aside, letting her in, though my gut told me this wasn’t going to go well.

The moment she entered, her eyes were glued to Emma and Ethan. “My goodness,” she whispered, her voice trembling with unexpected emotion. “They’re beautiful.”

Emma looked up. her fork paused mid–air as she stared at the unfamiliar woman entering the room. Ethan, ever the observant one, narrowed his eyes slightly, not saying anything but watching her closely,

I walked over, placing a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Kids, this is your grandmother. My mother.”

Emma’s eyes widened, “Grandmother?” she asked, her voice rising in excitement, but before she could say more, Ethan reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

He leaned over and whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear, “She looks mean.”

Time seemed to stop. I froze, my eyes snapping to my mother, whose face twisted inf shock and insult. Emma blinked, looking between Ethan and my mother, unsure what to do. I could feel the tension rise instantly, like a storm brewing.

Mom’s smile faltered. “Excuse me?” Her voice was icy, her usual control slipping just a fraction. She looked between the two kids, her eyes narrowing. “What did you just say, young man?”

Ethan straightened, meeting her gaze without flinching. “You look mean,” he repeated, this time more confidently, as if he were just stating a fact.

11:54 AM

My heart sank. This wasn’t good.

I cleared my throat, stepping forward, trying to diffuse the situation. “Mother, they didn’t mean it like that. They’ve just never met you before, and-”

But she wasn’t listening. Her eyes darkened, and she turned to me with a look that could freeze fire. “This,” she hissed, pointing at the children, “is what happens when they are raised without proper manners. They’re disrespectful. Spoilt. And it’s

all because of her.”

I clenched my jaw. “Christiana has raised them well, Mother. They’re not disrespectful. They’re just… honest.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Honest? They called me mean. That’s not honesty; that’s poor upbringing. You need to get them away from that woman before it’s too late. She’s ruining them.”

My blood boiled at her words. I could feel the sharp edge of her accusation, the disdain she always had for Christiana bubbling to the surface. But I wouldn’t let her turn this into an attack on the mother of my children.

“Mother,” I said firmly, my voice low but steady. “They’re not ruined. They’re kids. They say things without thinking sometimes, but they’re not being disrespectful. And Christiana has done a damn good job raising them, considering everything.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sneer. “Oh, has she? Then why do they have no sense of respect for their elders? Why are they so… wild?”

I bit back my frustration, taking a deep breath. “They’re not wild. They’re curious. They’re smart. And they know when someone’s not being genuine with them.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and she turned her gaze back to the kids, who were now watching the exchange with wide eyes. “Curious? Smart?” She shook her head, her voice dripping with disappointment. “They need discipline. They need proper guidance, and clearly, they’re not getting it.”

Emma, sensing the tension, shrank back in her chair, but Ethan stood his ground, watching my mother with those sharp eyes of his, as if he could see through her facade. I could see it in his expression–the same calculating look I sometimes had.

*Mother,” I said, my voice hardening. That’s enough. They’re not spoiled, and they’re not lacking discipline. They’re fine the way they are.”

Her eyes flicked back to me, cold and unyielding. “You think so? You think this is fine?” She gestured toward the kids. “If you keep letting them act like this, you’ll regret it. You’ll lose them.”

I clenched my fists, keeping my voice steady despite the anger boiling inside me. “I’m not going to lose them. And I won’t let you come in here and make them feel like they’re doing something wrong just for being themselves.”

There was a moment of tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words. My mother stared at me, her lips pressed into a thin line, before she finally exhaled sharply, turning on her heel.

“You’ll see, Alex,” she said over her shoulder, her voice cold. “You’ll see that I’m right. And when you do, it’ll be too late.”

With that, she stormed out, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest. I glanced back at Ethan and Emma, both of them staring at me with wide, confused eyes.

I took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about her,” I said softly, walking over to the table and kneeling down to their level. “She’s just… not used to having grandkids around.”

Ethan looked up at me, his expression serious. “She really is mean, though.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, she can be. But don’t let it bother you. You did nothing wrong”

Emma finally spoke up, her voice small. “Are we in trouble?”

I shook my head. “No, sweetie. You’re not in trouble. Not at all.”

I pulled them both into a hug, holding them close as the weight of the morning settled over me. I wasn’t going to let my

mother’s words ruin this moment. They were mine, and I wasn’t going to let anyone–not even her–make them feel like they weren’t good enough.

11:54 AM

The rest of the day with the kids was quiet but full. After the tension from my mother’s visit, I was determined to make the most of the time I had with them. Emma and Ethan deserved to feel like they belonged here–no interruptions, no harsh words, just… time.

After breakfast, we spent the morning lounging in the living room. Emma insisted on showing me every new trick she’d learned in gymnastics, while Ethan–ever the more composed one–sat beside me, explaining how much he already knew about the latest video games,

“Dad, did you know in Monster Strike, you can use a combination of elements to defeat-”

“Ethan, look!” Emma interrupted, flipping onto the couch, her little legs sticking out as she landed on a pillow with a soft thud.

I laughed, genuinely entertained by both of them. “Ethan, we’ll get back to Monster Strike in a minute,” I said, playfully nudging him. “Right now, we’ve got a little acrobat in the house.”

“Watch me, Daddy!” Emma shouted, her voice full of excitement as she tried the flip again, this time almost knocking over a lamp.

Ethan sighed, folding his arms. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I won’t!” Emma said defiantly.

I smiled, watching them. It had been too long since I’d seen them this free, this happy. It was in moments like this that I realized how much time I’d missed–how much they were growing and changing. There was something bittersweet about it.

As I reached for my phone to check the time, it buzzed in my hand. Christiana.

I answered on the second ring. “Hey,” I greeted her, trying to keep my voice light, though I knew where this conversation was heading.

“Alex” Her tone was sharp, and I could hear the tension in her voice. “When are you bringing them back? You said they’d only be with you for the night.”

“I’ll drop them off by late afternoon,” I assured her, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was still early. “They’ve been having a great time.”

There was a pause on her end, and I could feel the weight of her silence. “You said afternoon, Alex. Don’t make it later than that I don’t like them being away for too long.”

I sighed, trying to keep my frustration in check. “I know. They’re fine, though.”

“Let me talk to them.”

“Sure.” I turned to the kids, holding out the phone. “Mom wants to talk to you.” This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Emma jumped up first, grabbing the phone eagerly. “Hi, Mommy!” she chirped, smiling as she began talking. “Yeah, we’re fine. Daddy’s taking care of us.”

I watched as her face lit up, listening to her mother on the other end. Ethan, however, looked a little more reluctant to take the phone when it was handed to him.

“Yeah, Mom. We’re fine,” Ethan said, a little less enthusiastically than Emma. “Yeah. Dad’s making sure we eat and stuff.”

I gave him a thumbs–up, chuckling under my breath as he handed the phone back to me.

“See?” I said as I put the phone back to my ear. “They’re good. I’ll drop them off later, I promise.”

She sighed on the other end, but I could tell she wasn’t happy. “Just… don’t make them late. And Alex, they’ve got routines. Make sure you’re keeping them on it

“I know, Christiana,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “I’ve got it handled.”

“I hope so.”

Before I could say anything else, the line went dead. I set the phone down, exhaling deeply.

Ethan looked up at me with a knowing expression. “Mom’s mad, isn’t she?”

11:54 AM c

I gave him a small smile. “She’s just worried. It’s her job to worry,”

“But you’re doing fine,” he said simply, his blue eyes meeting mine,

That meant more to me than I could say, “Thanks, bud.”

The kids went back to their playing, and I stood up, dialing my P.A.. James. He picked up on the first ring, as expected.

“Sir. good morning,” James said in his usual, crisp tone. “Are you heading to the office soon?”

“No.” I replied firmly. “I’m not coming in today. Push all my meetings until tomorrow.”

There was a brief pause. “But, sir, there’s an important meeting with the stakeholders scheduled for today. They’re expecting

to address a few… delicate issues”

you

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “I’m aware of the meeting, James, but I’m not available. Postpone it until tomorrow. Make sure they know,”

“But, sir-

“James,” I said, cutting him off, “I won’t be in. End of discussion.”

There was a longer pause this time before James finally spoke.”

Understood, sir. I’ll handle it.”

“Good.” I ended the call and slipped the phone into my pocket. I didn’t need any distractions today. Not from work, not from anything.

SIND GILL