The Barren Ex-Wife Gave Birth to Twins

Chapter 75

The nursery’s dim light bathed the room in a soft glow as Ryan rocked slowly in the creaking chair, the rhythm meant to calm his nerves. Caleb’s chest rose and fell steadily in the crib, his small features peaceful and innocent. Ryan’s gaze lingered on his son, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

“You don’t have a clue about the chaos around you, do you, buddy?” he murmured. “You’re the only thing in my life right now that makes any sense.”

But even as he spoke, Ryan’s mind swirled with unrest. The recent weeks had been a storm of betrayals, missteps, and tangled emotions. He felt like a man holding a crumbling empire together with his bare hands, and it was exhausting.

The wounds Horizon Enterprises inflicted on his business throbbed like an old injury. Deals lost. Partners pulling out. Contracts stalled under the weight of rumors spread like wildfire by Hale and his associates. It had taken him years to build his company, and within months, the foundation was buckling. Every day brought new fires to extinguish.

“I built that company from scratch,” he muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. “And they’re tearing it apart like it’s nothing.”

Hale’s name alone was enough to make his jaw clench, but the thought of Amelia working with him—even inadvertently—gnawed at his resolve. Hale wasn’t just targeting Ryan’s business. He was striking at his personal life, aiming to dismantle what little stability Ryan had left.

And now Brenda’s words echoed in his mind, louder with every passing moment: “She’s moved on, Ryan. You’re the only one still hanging on.”

Ryan leaned forward in the rocking chair, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. The whiskey on the side table tempted him, but he resisted. He didn’t need another distraction. He needed clarity, answers—he needed to know if Amelia was truly slipping away or if there was still a chance to salvage what they once had.

The photos Brenda had shown him seared into his mind: Amelia laughing with Hale, her hand resting on the stem of a wine glass, her body relaxed in a way it never seemed to be around Ryan anymore.

“Does Hale really make her happy?” Ryan asked the empty room, his voice thick with doubt.

He thought about the times he’d seen her with Hale—on school grounds, at public events—each interaction amplifying his unease. Hale had the resources, the charm, the unshakable confidence of a man used to winning. And Amelia, after everything she’d endured, seemed drawn to the ease he offered, even if it came with strings she might not yet see.

Ryan stood abruptly, the rocking chair creaking in protest. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and slipped it on, the motion deliberate and steady. The faint hum of the baby monitor filled the silence, but he barely noticed.

“I can’t keep spinning in circles,” he said under his breath, his hand brushing Caleb’s crib. “I need to hear it from her.”