Take Two: A second chance romance

Chapter 16: Alexis

I don’t know where I am… or how long I’ve been here.

It feels like limbo—silent, endless, suspended between life and something else. Voices drift in and out like waves lapping at the edge of my mind. Sometimes they’re near, other times distant, muffled like I’m underwater. I hear Jayden begging me to wake up. I hear my boys. My heart aches at the sound of their little voices, calling for me, and I can’t answer.

I can’t hold them. I can’t wake up. The last clear memory I have is being with Jessa. We were heading somewhere—where, I can’t recall. Everything after that is a blank void. No matter how hard I try to claw my way out, something keeps me trapped in this nothingness. There’s no time here. Just longing. And the slow, suffocating ache of helplessness.

Then… something changes.

I don’t know how long it’s been—days? Weeks? Years? But the voices grow louder. Clearer. The fog around me begins to lift, just a little. I feel something. Pain. Sharp and jarring, crawling up my spine and blooming behind my eyes like fire.

My eyes—God, they feel glued shut, like they haven’t opened in centuries. My head pounds violently, like a jackhammer inside my skull, and I groan before I can stop myself.

A chair scrapes loudly against the floor. Footsteps rush toward me. Then someone shouts, breathless: “She’s waking up!”

“Lex! Can you hear me?” Jayden’s voice—clear now, honest, urgent. “Come on, baby… wake up for the boys. Wake up for me.”

Then, softer—broken—“I love you, Lex.” His hand wraps around mine, warm and grounding.

More voices fill the room. A door opens. Orders are barked. Hands touch me—cold, clinical. Prodding, poking. I groan again at the intrusion. Every nerve in my body screams awake. I force my eyes open—but the world explodes in blinding white, and I snap them shut again.

“Turn the lights down!” someone says.

The next time I open them, it’s bearable. Blurred shapes sharpen. My vision focuses… and there he is.

Jayden. Tears streak down his cheeks. Relief crumples his face, and he smiles at me so softly, so full of gratitude, it cracks something inside me.

He leans in, pressing a kiss on my forehead. “There you are, my butterfly,” he whispers. “You had us so scared. The boys… they missed their Mama.” His arms wrap around me, and I feel him shaking. He holds me like he’ll never let go again.

I swallow, my throat raw and dry. “Jayden…”

My voice sounds like sandpaper. “What happened? The last thing I remember is being with Jessa. We were going somewhere.”

His smile falters. He looks away for a second, drawing in a shaky breath. “You and Jessa… you were in a car accident,” he says quietly. “You pushed her out of the way before the truck hit you. Her injuries weren’t as bad. She’s home now. But you, Lex, you were in a coma for five weeks.”

My breath catches.

“You had a grade four concussion, a broken arm and leg, and four broken ribs—internal bleeding. You needed surgery. You…” his voice cracks, “you flatlined twice. Two minutes… each time. Tears spill down my temples.

I don’t even try to stop them. “They missed the brain swelling at first,” Jayden continues. "There were complications, but they finally caught it. You’re stable now, thank God. But—” He hesitates.

My heart seizes. “There’s more,” he says, barely above a whisper. “At the time of the accident… You were pregnant.”

Everything stops. The air leaves the room. I turned to him, eyes wide, my body suddenly cold. His face confirms it—devastation etched into every line. We didn’t even know.

And now… My arms ache for a child I’ll never hold. A life that slipped away before it even began. The sob escapes before I can stop it. Jayden pulls me into his chest, holding me like I’m breakable. Maybe I am. Maybe I already have. But for now, I’m here. I’m awake and I’m alive.

The world still feels too sharp. Every sound cuts too deep, and every movement aches like I’m stitched together with wires instead of skin. It’s been four days since I woke up. Four days of painkillers and whispered updates. Four days of Jayden barely leaving my side except to check on the boys. Four days of waiting, of wondering if they even remember me after all this time. Five weeks is a long time for little hearts. My arms are weak. I can’t sit up on my own yet. Nurses adjust my pillows and gently elevate the head of the bed. My legs are still braced, and my ribs still scream every time I breathe too deeply, but none of that matters now.

Because today… Today, I get to see my babies.

Jayden stands near the door, shifting from foot to foot like he’s as nervous as I am. He’s trying not to show it, but I see it in the way he wipes his palms against his jeans. “Are you ready, butterfly?” he asks softly.

I nod, even though my throat tightens and my heart pounds harder than it has since I woke up. “More than ready.”

He gives a small smile, then steps into the hallway. I hear the patter of small feet—tiny voices. My heart feels like it’s going to split open and then—there they are. Kai and Killian. My boys. They burst into the room, full of energy, light, and love. They hesitate just inside the doorway, as if unsure whether they’re allowed to get close. Jayden gently places a hand on each of their backs and nudges them forward. They’re bigger than I remember. Or maybe it’s just the haze of my memory that makes them look like they’ve grown.

Kai, my oldest by five minutes, has his little eyebrows scrunched in worry, while Killian’s lip wobbles like he’s trying not to cry.

My arms instinctively reach out, trembling. I don’t care about the IV lines or the dull ache that flares up my side. “Come here, babies,” I whisper, voice thick with emotion. “Come to Mama.” They rush forward at the same time.

Jayden helps lift them gently, one on each side, careful of my healing ribs. The moment they settle against me, I can’t hold back the tears. Their weight is so familiar. Their warmth. Their smell. Kai clings to my left side, face buried in my shoulder. “I missed you so much, Mama. I was scared. You didn’t wake up. I thought maybe you weren’t gonna wake up.”

Killian curled into my right side, gripping the hospital gown in his tiny fist. “Daddy said you were sleeping, so your body could fix. Did it fix, Mama? Are you better?” I kissed the tops of their heads, my tears falling into their soft hair. “I missed you both more than you could ever know. Mama was very hurt, but I’m awake now. I’m not going anywhere.”

They’re both crying now, quiet sniffles muffled against my chest. “I had a bad dream,” Killian whispers. “You went away and never came back.”

Kai nods. “I wanted to give you my teddy bear to help, but Daddy said the doctors wouldn’t let us.”

Jayden chuckles from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “He tried to sneak it into my jacket. Almost got away with it too.”

I smile through the tears, reaching out to squeeze Jayden’s hand.

“I’m so proud of you two,” I whispered to the boys. “You were so brave. Mama’s so lucky to have you.”

They nodded solemnly, as if they’d been carrying the weight of the world and finally felt safe again.

Killian lifts his head. “Can we stay here forever?”

I laugh softly, the sound cracked and fragile. “Maybe not forever… but for as long as I can hold you, I will.”

Jayden leans over and brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. “They haven’t stopped talking about you since the day it happened. Every night, they asked when Mama was coming home.”

“I dreamed of them,” I say quietly. “Even when I was… wherever I was. I heard their voices.”

Kai pulls back just far enough to look into my eyes. “Did you hear me sing the song? I sang your favorite song every night. Daddy helped me remember the words.”

“I did hear it,” I say, voice shaking. “It helped me find my way back.”

Both boys wrap their arms tighter around me, like if they hold on hard enough, nothing will ever take me away again.

And in this fragile, perfect moment—despite the pain, despite the loss—I know I still have everything that matters.

I have them, and I’ll fight with every breath to never leave them again.