Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Chapter 1381

In the hospital hallway, Maja sat as still as a statue, her gaze fixed on the sterile doors through which

Ian had disappeared. Three agonizing hours crawled by before he was finally wheeled out, looking pale

but alive. The doctor, a mask dangling from his fingers, reassured her, “It’s a close call, but the bullet

missed his heart by a good margin.” Her heart, which had been hovering in her throat, plummeted to

relief. Maja collapsed by his bedside, her tears flowing freely as she clung to his hand. Ian’s line of

work was not one that allowed for lengthy hospital stays. As soon as it was clear he was out of

immediate danger, he was discreetly transferred back to the underworld’s infamous seventh layer,

where the gritty fight club he managed was located. Maja never left his side, her vigil unending. Nydia,

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a fellow fighter, attempted to visit, but one glance at Maja’s steely eyes sent her retreating into the

shadows. Had Maja always possessed such formidable presence? Nydia wondered, though she dared

not step forward again. Maja caressed Ian’s hand against her cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Though the anesthesia was still dulling his senses, Ian was aware. He knew the gamble he had taken

was unfair to Maja. To watch one’s love fall, as the psychologist had suggested, could strip away layers

of the mind, potentially snapping her from the trance she had been caught in. He was always a

gambler. And this time, it seemed, he had won. As Maja’s tears fell on his hand, Ian longed to comfort

her, to wipe them away, but his body failed him. For two days, he lay in recovery, with Maja blocking the

doorway to any who tried to enter. Her stance was unwavering, her gaze enough to silence even the

most insistent visitor. On the morning of the third day, Ian’s eyes fluttered open. His chest ached where

the bullet had lodged, a stark reminder of the price paid. He looked pale, the effort to sit up painting his

features with

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discomfort. When his eyes met Maja’s, there was a trace of guilt in his gaze. If she was truly awake,

she must have pieced together that this had been his plan all along. Gambling with his life to wake her.

“Maja.” he started, but she silenced him with a spoonful of oatmeal. “Eat first,” she said softly. Her

anger was palpable. He had sent her away without consent, gambled with his life without consulting

her. Ian knew he would be furious in her place. He sipped the broth hesitantly, wanting to explain his

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actions. His desperation to protect her from the pain of their past, his hope to rouse her from the

hypnotic state they had been trapped in. But in making those decisions, he had kept her in the dark. Ian

had always been insecure about their relationship. Looking back, their moments of intimacy were few

and far between, almost nonexistent. He had made many mistakes, but never once doubted Maja’s

sincerity. Their love was so profound that caution became second nature to both. Now that he was

awake, Maja tended to him with a quiet diligence, speaking little else. At night, she clung to his hand, a

slight stir from him would jolt her awake for frantic checks to ensure he was neither feverish nor facing

new danger. This repeated until Ian realized that although Maja was conscious, the fear of losing him

haunted her relentlessly. The moment he was out of sight, she would need constant reassurance of his

existence, of his survival. The weight of such fear was suffocating for them both. Sometimes, the pain

of deep love is more terrifying than indifference. Once crossed, every bullet aimed at a lover feels like a

cannon firing back at oneself. Ian had nearly lost half his life, but for Maja, it was as if her entire

existence had almost slipped away.