Hello, Ex! I Finally Found My Worth! - Chapter 210

Chapter 210: No!
In the days following the discovery of Jake’s final message, there was an unspoken agreement among them all—Jake deserved a proper farewell. He had lived a flawed life, made mistakes, but in the end, he had sought redemption in his own way. It was time to lay him to rest with dignity.

Alex took charge of handling most of the arrangements, knowing that Margaret was too heartbroken to focus on the details. Claire stood by her sister, offering quiet strength, while Emma did her best to support Margaret as well.

They chose a peaceful cemetery on the outskirts of the city, one with a view of the hills, somewhere quiet and serene. Margaret said Jake would have liked it—he had always wanted a place where he could think, away from the chaos of the world.

Ivy and Chris helped with the logistics, arranging the flowers, ensuring the service would be simple yet respectful. The news of Jake’s passing had spread, and despite his past, many who knew him wanted to pay their respects. Some former colleagues from his past work, a few old friends, and even some of the officers from the little time he stayed in prison came forward.

Emma had debated whether to speak at the service, but in the end, she decided to. She needed to.

The sky was overcast the morning of the burial, fitting the somber mood. Margaret clutched Claire’s hand tightly as they stood by the gravesite. Emma stood next to Alex, her hands intertwined with his, drawing comfort from his presence.

When it was time for her to speak, she stepped forward, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside her.

“Jake and I had a complicated past,” she began, her eyes scanning the faces of those gathered. “But beyond all the pain, beyond all the mistakes, I know he was someone who carried his own burdens, more than he ever let on. In the end, he tried to make amends, and I choose to remember him for that.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “Jake was not perfect, but he was human. And today, we say goodbye not with anger, not with resentment, but with the hope that he has found peace.”

Margaret wiped her tears and whispered a soft, “Thank you,” to Emma as she stepped back.

As the casket was lowered into the ground, Margaret broke down completely, sobbing into Claire’s arms. Claire held her tightly, whispering words of comfort. Chris placed a steadying hand on Claire’s shoulder, his own expression sorrowful.

Emma and Alex stepped forward together, each tossing a single white rose into the grave—one final farewell.

When the priest finished the last prayer, and the guests began to leave, Margaret remained standing for a long time, gazing at her son’s resting place.

Finally, she whispered, “Goodbye, my boy,” before turning away, supported by Claire and Emma.

In the weeks that followed, there was a quiet sense of relief among them all. Jake’s death had left scars, but they had found closure.

Margaret decided to stay with Claire at Alex’s house for a while, not ready to return to her home just yet since she’d be too lonely and might get overwhelmed by her grief.

Emma and Alex returned to their life together, stronger than ever, cherishing every moment with a renewed appreciation.

The past had been painful, but they had survived. And now, they were ready to step into the future.

That evening, after weeks of pushing it to the back of his mind, Alex finally decided to ask Claire about the locket. As they sat in the living room after dinner, he glanced at her, his expression serious.

“Claire,” he said, setting down his glass of water.

She looked up from her book, noticing the intensity in his gaze. “Yes, Alex?”

“The locket,” he said, watching her closely. “The one you mentioned at the hospital. You had said you knew where it is, right?”

Claire stilled for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes, I do. But it’s at my house.”

Alex exchanged a glance with Emma before nodding. “Let’s go get it. I think it’s time I resumed the search.”

Without hesitation, the both of them—Alex and Claire—got into the car and drove to Claire’s house, the home they had all lived in growing up.

Emma couldn’t go with them since she had to be there Incase Margaret needed anything.

The ride was silent, both of them lost in their thoughts. For Alex, it felt surreal to be doing this—to be actively searching for a piece of his past he had never even considered before.

When they arrived, Claire led them inside and straight to her late mother’s bedroom. She opened a drawer in her nightstand and pulled out a small, golden locket. For a moment, she hesitated before handing it to Alex.

“She said you asked her to keep it away from you,” she said but Alex wasn’t hearing anything she was saying.

The moment Alex’s fingers wrapped around it, a strange sensation washed over him. He had seen this before—held it before. He was sure of it.

Without thinking, his fingers pressed against the surface, and to his surprise, the locket clicked open.

Inside was a tiny, worn photograph. His breath hitched as he stared at it.

A five-year-old version of himself smiled back at him, holding a newborn baby wrapped in a white blanket.

His brows furrowed deeply. His heart pounded.

“Is this…” He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. Was this baby his sister?

Claire watched him carefully. “I never knew what was inside. I kept it for years because…” She sighed. “Because I thought you might need it one day. Mom had said never to give you unless you asked.”

Still staring at the picture, Alex felt a dull ache in his chest. Why couldn’t he remember? If he had a sister, why had that part of his life been erased from his memories?

Later that night, when they returned home, he showed it to Emma. She took the locket from his hands, examining the tiny image closely.

“It does seem like Jake was right,” she murmured. “But if this baby is your sister, why don’t you remember anything? And how were you both separated?”

Alex exhaled sharply. “I don’t know.” He rubbed his temple. “But what I do know is that I feel deeply connected to this locket. Like… like it’s trying to tell me something.”

Emma placed a comforting hand on his. “Then maybe it’s time you actively start digging into your past.”

Alex clenched his jaw. He had always believed his life had started when Claire’s parents adopted him. But now, looking at this locket, at this picture—he realized his past might be far more complicated than he ever imagined.

After preparing for bed that night, Alex lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind restless. The locket sat on the nightstand beside him, the tiny image of the newborn baby who might be his sister burned into his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing—something just out of reach.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled him under, and as soon as he drifted off, the nightmare came.

He was five again.

The air was thick with the scent of leather and something sweet—maybe his mother’s perfume. He sat in the backseat of a car, swinging his feet, a small pile of colorful building blocks stacked neatly on his lap. The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, occasionally interrupted by the soft cries of a baby in the front seat.

A woman—probably his mother—turned around, her kind eyes filled with warmth despite the exhaustion lining her face.

“Carter, honey, are you done building your blocks?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Before he could answer, the blaring sound of a horn ripped through the air.

His father shouted. His mother gasped followed by a violent crash, the sound of metal twisting and glass shattering.

Pain exploded in his small body as he was thrown forward. The world spun, then everything went dark.

When he came to, there was noise all around him—voices, sirens, and the distant wail of the baby. His head throbbed, his body aching. He tried to move, but he was trapped beneath something heavy.

“Everyone seems dead apart from the baby,” a deep voice said.

Dead?

No. No, that wasn’t right. His mother—his father—they couldn’t be…

He struggled, panic clawing at his throat as he turned his head just in time to see shadowy figures pulling the baby from the wreckage.

His baby sister.

He tried to reach out, to say something, but his body wouldn’t listen. He was too weak. He watched helplessly as they carried the crying infant away.

No!

A scream tore from his throat, but it wasn’t loud enough. No one paid attention to him. He tried to scream again but the pain he felt was probably too much as he felt himself giving into weakness, unable to speak or move.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, unmovable until he heard footsteps approached.

A tall man crouched beside him, his face blurry, his expression unreadable.

“You’re alive,” the man murmured, almost to himself.

Then, without another word, he lifted the five year old Alex or was it Carter into his arms and carried him away.

The last thing Alex saw before the darkness swallowed him again was the wreckage of the car—and the tiny, broken blocks scattered across the ground.