Hello, Ex! I Finally Found My Worth! - Chapter 202

Chapter 202: He’s Dead!
Margaret wiped at her tears threatening to fall as she turned to Emma.

“Emma,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “I need to say this.”

Emma blinked, startled. “Margaret—”

“It would have been you in there,” Margaret continued, her voice cracking. “If Jake hadn’t done what he did… if he hadn’t stepped in front of that bullet, you’d be the one fighting for your life right now.”

Emma’s throat tightened, her heart pounding as she gripped Margaret’s hands, feeling the tremble in them.

Though Margaret was trying to be strong, Emma knew she was not feeling the least bit strong.

“I know my son,” Margaret whispered, a broken smile trembling on her lips. “Though he’s done nothing but bad to you, I know he must have felt responsible. He must have known he owed you that much after everything he put you through.” Tears slid down her face, her grip tightening. “I know I have no right to ask you this, Emma, but I have to. Can you ever forgive him? For everything he’s done to you? For all the pain he caused? I don’t want him to come out and still have to cause you pain. Please, forgive him so we could all leave in peace again.”

Emma’s lips parted, but no words came. The emotions swirled inside her—shock, sorrow, regret, and something heavier, something she couldn’t quite name. She wanted to say something, anything, but before she could—

The ICU doors swung open. The sound was sharp, slicing through the thick silence like a blade.

Everyone’s heads snapped toward the doctor stepping out.

Alex was the first to move, his body rigid with tension. “Doctor,” he called out urgently, his voice tight. “How is Jake? Is he fine? Can we go see him now?”

Margaret stumbled to her feet, clutching at her chest. Claire and Emma followed, their steps frantic as they all closed in around the doctor.

The man hesitated, his face grim. He looked at their face and the only thing that escaped his lips was a sigh.

Margaret’s hands trembled violently when she saw the look on the doctor’s face. “Tell me he’s okay,” she begged, desperation lacing her voice. “Tell me my son is okay.”

The doctor inhaled deeply, his gaze filled with something none of them wanted to see.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

The words didn’t register at first but when it did, Margaret’s heart stopped beating for a moment.

Margaret blinked, her heart beating fast and hammering against her rub cage. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no. He’s not—he can’t—please don’t sat those words.”

The doctor sighed, looking down briefly before meeting their eyes again. “We did everything we could, but the bullet damaged critical organs. He didn’t make it.”

A sharp silence fell over the room. Margaret swayed, the color draining from her face.

Claire gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth, her entire body freezing in place.

Emma’s breath hitched, her vision blurring, her heart slamming painfully against her ribs.

Alex felt something inside him crack.

It was as if time had stopped. As if the world had suddenly tilted on its axis and nothing made sense anymore.

Margaret staggered back, clutching at her chest. “No,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. “Not my son. Not my Jake.”

Her knees buckled, but Claire caught her just before she collapsed. Tears ran freely down her face as she shook her head again and again, refusing to accept it. “He promised me,” she sobbed. “He promised me he’d be okay and he’d always be with me.”

Claire’s grip on her tightened, but she, too, was crying silently.

Emma stood frozen, her hands covering her mouth, her entire body trembling.

Jake was gone. Dead.

The man who had once terrorized her. The man who had once loved her in his own twisted way. The man who had nearly cost her everything. She had hated him and yet, he had died saving her.

A sharp pain spread through her chest, guilt twisting its way into her stomach. If it weren’t for her, would he still be alive?

Though it was true they had involved Vanessa in all these and had made everything complicated, still it couldn’t help the feeling gnawing at her insides, screaming at her and telling her she was responsible for his death.

She was the one that man had aimed for. Yet, he had jumped right in front of her without a second thought. What was she supposed to do now? How was she supposed to feel? Why did he have to die?

Alex clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms. He hated Jake for what he had done to Emma. But he was also his nephew. And now he was gone.

Just like that.

A part of him wanted to scream, to punch something, to demand why. Another part of him felt like a weight had settled in his chest, suffocating him with the finality of it all.

Margaret let out a strangled cry, breaking down completely. “I should have done better,” she wept. “I should have been a better mother. I should have saved him from himself.”

Claire turned away, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. She had tried so hard to keep her family together, to make things right, but now… now it was too late.

She hadn’t only failed her sister but also her late father by not holding together the complete family he had left. What was she going to tell him? How had things gotten to this point?

Emma forced herself to move, to step closer, to place a trembling hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “Margaret…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Jake…” Her words caught in her throat. “He saved me. He did the right thing.”

Margaret let out another sob, gripping Emma’s hand tightly, as if holding on would somehow bring Jake back.

But nothing could. Jake was gone and none of them knew how to face the weight of that reality.

Unable to bear the weight of her grief and the knowledge that her son was dead, never to be heard of or seen again, Margaret collapsed onto the cold hospital floor, her sobs tearing through the sterile air like a wounded animal in agony. The pain in her cries was unbearable, raw, and heartbreaking.

“Jake… my baby,” she wept, her hands clawing at her chest as if she could tear the pain away. “He’s not gone! He can’t be gone!” She cried in denial.

She had wanted to accept it but she couldn’t. It was too much to accept. Her heart felt like it would explode with grief if she tried to accept this fake reality.

Yes. Fake. It wasn’t real.

Claire knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders, but Margaret barely noticed. Her body trembled violently as grief overtook her, her face drenched in tears.

“Margaret, please,” Claire whispered, her own voice thick with emotion. “You have to stay strong.”

But Margaret shook her head furiously, her cries growing louder. “No! I need to see him! I need to hold him!” She struggled to her feet, her movements frantic. “I have to wake him up! He’s waiting for me!”

Emma felt her chest tighten, tears spilling silently down her cheeks as she watched the mother’s devastation unfold before her. She wanted to say something, but the lump in her throat made it impossible.

Alex clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he swallowed back his own grief. Seeing his sister like this—completely shattered—was almost too much to bear.

Margaret tried to push past them, stumbling toward the ICU doors. “Let me go! I need to see my son!” she cried out, fighting against Claire and Alex as they held her back.

“Margaret, please,” Alex murmured, gripping her arms gently but firmly. “You don’t have to see him like this.”

But Margaret wasn’t listening. She thrashed against their hold, her voice rising in desperation.

“JAKE!” she screamed. “Wake up, baby, please! Please don’t leave me!”

The ICU doors opened again, and two nurses stepped out, their faces solemn. One of them spoke hesitantly. “We need to take him to the morgue now.”

Margaret’s body stiffened at the words. Then, in an instant, she broke free from Claire and Alex’s grip and threw herself at the nurses, gripping their arms desperately.

“No, you can’t take him!” she pleaded, her fingers digging into their uniforms. “My son is still alive! He’s just sleeping! Please, let me take him home!”

Emma covered her mouth, watching as Margaret’s heart shattered before them.

The nurses exchanged a sorrowful glance before gently trying to pry Margaret off, but she refused to let go. “Don’t take him from me! He needs his mother!” she sobbed, shaking her head wildly. “He’s cold… I need to keep him warm. He hates being cold…”

“Hes dead, Maggie!” Alex yelled, stopping Margaret.

“Dead—” Margaret’s voice cracked on the last word, and then, suddenly, her body swayed.

“Margaret!” Claire gasped as Margaret’s eyes rolled back, and she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

“Maggie!” Alex dropped to his knees beside her just as the doctors and nurses rushed forward.

“Get her on a stretcher!” one of the doctors ordered.

Emma stepped back, pressing a shaking hand against her chest as she watched them lift Margaret onto a hospital bed and wheel her away.

Claire wiped at her tears, her hands trembling. “She’s going to break if she doesn’t get through this,” she whispered.

Alex ran a hand down his face, swallowing the thick lump in his throat. “We need to be there for her,” he said, his voice barely steady.

Emma nodded, even as her own heart ached unbearably. “We all need to be there for each other.”

Because at that moment, in the cold, sterile hospital hallway, it felt as if they had all lost a piece of themselves.