Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband

(Jayden)

I burst through the front door, taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor. I pray I'm in time. I stop at the bottom of the attic stairs.

Then I see her.

Winona lies crumpled halfway down the attic stairs, her body twisted awkwardly. Her head jammed up against the wall, her hand rests on a spindle. Blood pools beneath her head on the stair, dark and horrifying, and for a second, I'm frozen.

My mind blanks out, every thought swept away by raw panic.

But then I snap back. She needs me. She needs me to be fully present, not panicking.

I force myself forward, the first aid kit from the car clutched in my shaking hands. Every instinct screams at me to scoop her up, to hold her, but I stop myself. If she's hurt her neck or spine... I could make it worse. My knees hit the stair below her, and I reach for her wrist with trembling fingers.

A faint pulse. Relief crashes over me so hard I almost collapse, but it's short-lived. She's alive, but for how long?

I tear open the first aid kit, my hands shaking so badly it takes me three tries to pull out a compress. Her head is still bleeding, a slow but steady seep that sends fresh waves of terror through me. I press the compress against the wound, careful not to move her. I need to stop the bleeding.

"Winona," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Winona, baby, can you hear me? Please, open your eyes. Please..."

She doesn't move. Her chest rises and falls faintly, but her body is limp, almost lifeless. My throat constricts as I clutch her hand, holding it as tightly as I dare.

"I'm here," I say, tears burning my eyes. "I'm right here. Hold on for me, okay? Hold on for the kids. Just hold on."

The words spill out, raw and desperate, and I can't stop them. I don't want to stop them. I should have said them sooner.

"I've been so stupid, Winona. I let everything get in the way-Judy, Lance, my own damn pride and none of it matters. None of it. Lance made his own choice. Judy is out of our lives for good. All I want is you. I need you."

My voice cracks, and the tears come faster. I press my forehead against her hand, my shoulders shaking. "I love you. I love you so much, and I've been a fool not to show you that every day. I let my jealousy, my hurt, my anger get in the way of what really matters. I'm sorry, Winona. I'm so fucking sorry."

The house is silent except for the sound of my voice and the faint rasp of her breathing. The sight of her bloodied head and motionless body makes my stomach churn, but I force myself to stay calm. She needs me calm. She needs me strong.

I hold the compress steady. I need to stop the bleeding.

"I don't care about the past," I continue, my voice trembling. "I don't care about the photos, the hall pass, any of it. All I care about is you. Us. Our family. I should've said this sooner. I should've fought harder for us instead of pushing you away." My gaze drops to her stomach, the slight curve barely noticeable. "And him. Our new baby, Leo. That's the name I like best. I should have told you. We were going to name him."

Please let the baby be okay. "Our son. He needs you, Winona. I need you. Abby, Bobby, Sarah, Henry-we all need you."

Hurry the fuck up ambulance.

"You're my world," I whisper, my voice breaking. "You always have been. I swear, Winona, if you just wake up if you just hold on-I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I'll show you every single day how much you mean to me." I hear sirens growing louder, and I exhale shakily, keeping the compress against her head. "They're coming, babe. Just a little longer. Hold on for me."Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

My mind keeps slipping, imagining the worst. What if she doesn't wake up? What if I lose her? The thought sends fresh waves of despair crashing over me.

I can't lose her. I won't.

Paramedics rush up the stairs. I'm

already shouting instructions before they even reach us. "Winona Brennan My wife. She fell around fifteen minutes ago. I've been here five minutes. I didn't move her. She's pregnant-sixteen weeks, high risk. Her medical team will be waiting. I already called ahead."

"Great job. I need you to move so I can assess her please."

I don't want to let her go but I know I have to get out of their way.

The paramedics kneels where I was, her movements calm and efficient. She checks Winona's pulse and nods. "You did a good job not moving her. Let's take it from here."

I stand back, my hands trembling, as they secure her neck with a brace, bandage her head and carefully move her onto a stretcher. The sight of her pale, almost lifeless form strapped in, her head wrapped in gauze, nearly breaks me. "Is she going to be okay?" I ask.

The paramedic glances at me, her expression neutral but kind. "We'll get her on fluids and check for anything obvious. We'll do everything we can. You traveling with her in the ambulance?" "Can I?"

"Yes. If you can guarantee you'll stay calm if anything happens."

"I will."

They wheel her out to the ambulance, and I follow. They begin to assess her. My hands shake as I pull out my phone, dialing the hospital. I know this number by heart.

"This is Jayden Brennan," I say, my

voice firm. "My wife, Winona

Brennan is being brought in by ambulance shortly. Sixteen weeks pregnant, high risk, head injury from a fall. Prepare her team. I want her in a family suite at the Brennan Wing."

The nurse says she'll contact emergency and Winona's doctors, and I hang up. They are still checking her over and she has a drip attached. I can't stop staring at her pale face, willing her to wake up, to move, to give me some sign that she'll be okay.

I dial Viktor. He picks up immediately. "Jayden..."

"I will."

"We're about to go in the ambulance for the hospital. She's alive. But not conscious. Thank Cass for moving so fast on this. That probably saved Winona's life."

I disconnect the call.

"Hold on, Winona," I whisper, my voice breaking again. "Please, just hold on. I need you. We all need you. Don't leave us. Don't leave me."

"You can come on in, Mr Brennan. Let's get her to the hospital."

"Is the baby okay?"

"We'll leave that discussion for the specialists. We're not experts in that area."

I hold her hand. I'll spend the rest of my life proving to her that nothing matters more than her. Than us. Than our family.

I won't let her go. Not now. Not ever.