Dear Ex Wife, Please take me back novel Chapter 162

ATHENA

“Is he asleep?” Alex asks, his voice low and surprisingly gentle.

I nod, brushing Rayen’s hair back one last time before zipping up the side of his tent.

“Out like a light. Thanks to all the singing we did!” I throw him a pointed look.

But instead of responding, he smiles, and I swear I feel my ovaries shift.

It should be illegal for your enemy to look this good!

The fake forest around us is finally quiet. A few kids are still whispering in their tents, giggling under their fairy light strings, but for the most part, the fantasy campsite is winding down.

The parents, according to the schedule, are supposed to sleep in nearby guest rooms so the kids could feel independent but still stay safe.

I straighten and stretch my back, wincing slightly.

“Where am I sleeping?”

“We need to check the list,” Alex replies, pulling out his phone and scrolling through something.

“Please don’t tell me you’re the one who made the list.”

He gives me that maddening look, the one where he pretends to be innocent but already knows he’s done something outrageous.

“I delegated.”

“To who? Satan?”

“Close enough.”

I groan.

“Well?” I press, crossing my arms as he looks at me with a serious face. But he can't fool me, I can see his eyes dancing in excitement.

“You’re in Room 207.” He says.

“And you?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“207.”

I hold my mouth to keep myself from laughing too hard as we walk out.

“My ears are playing tricks on me. Can you believe I heard you say 207 twice?”

He nods once. “That's what I said, baby.”

I halt. Ignoring the flatter in my chest after he has called me baby. The stupid pet name I hate.

“As in… 207…the same room?”

His smile deepens. “Exactly that.”

I blink.

“That’s not how room assignments work.”

“Well, technically, it’s a double. Two beds. One room. Very practical.”

“Practical?!” My voice pitches higher than I’d like. “There are at least fifty rooms in this hotel.”

“Fifty-two,” he corrects, far too relaxed for someone I'm about to kill. “But Anna thought it would be best if all parents stayed closest to each other in case of an emergency.”

The worst part is… he means it. His voice, his eyes, even the slight furrow in his brow they’re all real. There’s no smugness in this version of him. Just… sincerity.

And that makes it harder to fight.

“I can take the bed near the window,” he says, stepping aside as if offering me the choice. “And I’ll even give you the extra pillows. No snoring. No weird breathing. No talking unless you want to.”

I sigh, looking at the hallway like salvation might appear around the corner.

It doesn’t.

Instead, I look back at him. At his tired, glitter-streaked face. At the man who once ruined me and the man who might still own pieces of me, even if I never say it out loud.

“One word,” I say, holding up a finger, “and I’m switching with a janitor and sleeping in a fucking supply closet.”

His grin is slow and boyish.

“I’ll take that risk.”

I shake my head and walk past him.

“Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He follows silently, just close enough that I can feel his warmth behind me. And when we finally reach the door to 207, I hear him whisper, just loud enough for me to catch it,

“Thank you.”

And stupid me…

…I actually smile.

I think these are side effects to those damn pain killers.