DUMPING MY BILLIONAIRE WIFE

CHAPTER 19

“The mansion is huge, Ms. Meave… and we searched it already, but we haven’t found him yet,” the butler said, slightly out of breath.

Her voice carried worry.

Even in a place as organized and controlled as the Castillon estate, panic was starting to spread.

Meave stood still for a moment.

Her expression remained calm.

Too calm.

But behind that calmness, something moved.

“Alright,” Meave replied in a steady voice. “I’ll go find him.”

She turned without hesitation.

“I think I know where he is.”

Her steps were quick, but still graceful.

Every movement she made carried control, even in urgency.

She passed through the long hallway, her heels making soft sounds against the polished floor. The servants she passed lowered their heads, but she did not stop.

Her mind was focused on one thing.

Emman.

There was only one place he would go when he felt overwhelmed.

The pool.

The night air near the pool was quiet.

Soft lights surrounded the area, reflecting gently on the surface of the water. The place looked peaceful, almost too peaceful for someone who was lost.

Meave slowed down as she approached.

Her eyes scanned the area.

And then—

She saw him.

At the far corner.

Small.

Alone.

Emman was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled close to his chest. His face was buried in his forearms as his small body trembled.

He was crying.

Silently at first.

But the sound became clearer as Meave walked closer.

“There you are…” she said softly.

Her voice was no longer as cold as before.

It carried something gentler.

Emman did not respond immediately.

He kept his face hidden.

His shoulders still shaking.

Meave stood in front of him for a moment.

Then slowly, she lowered herself and sat beside him.

“Why are you crying?” she asked.

Her tone was calm.

But there was concern in it.

Real concern.

Emman slowly lifted his head.

His eyes were red.

Tears were still falling down his cheeks.

He looked at her.

Then quickly grabbed his notebook and pen with trembling hands.

He wrote something.

His small fingers moved quickly.

Then he turned the paper toward her.

“Is Earl gonna be another child’s dad?”

The words were simple.

But they carried a heavy emotion.

Meave’s eyes softened slightly.

“So it’s about him?” she said quietly.

Emman’s lips trembled.

Then he started crying again.

This time, louder.

More openly.

He shook his head slightly, then nodded, as if he did not know how to explain his feelings.

He wrote again.

“I don’t want him to leave…”

His handwriting was messy.

Unsteady.

Just like his emotions.

Meave looked at the words.

Her chest tightened.

She had seen her son like this before.

But this time…

It was different.

Because now, there was someone involved.

Someone who had entered their lives so suddenly.

And changed something.

Something important.

She reached out her hand slightly.

But then paused.

Her fingers froze in the air.

Her condition.

Her fear.

It was still there.

But this was her son.

Slowly, carefully—

She placed her hand on his head.

It was a light touch.

Gentle.

Uncertain.

But real.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly.

“He won’t leave you.”

Emman looked at her again.

His eyes were full of hope.

“But… what if he has another child?” he wrote quickly.

“What if he becomes someone else’s dad?”

The question was innocent.

But painful.

Meave took a deep breath.

Her gaze shifted slightly toward the pool.

The reflection of the water moved gently.

“Then…” she paused.

Then looked back at him.

“He’ll still be your dad.”

Emman blinked.

Confused.

She continued.

“Some people come into our lives not because they belong to us from the start,” she said.

Her voice was calm.

“But because they choose to stay.”

Emman listened carefully.

He did not fully understand.

But he tried.

Meave’s eyes softened more.

“He didn’t leave when you needed him,” she added.

“And he won’t leave now.”

Emman slowly wiped his tears.

Still unsure.

Still afraid.

But calmer.

“Really?” he wrote.

Meave nodded.

“He’ll be your dad soon,” she said.

The words came out naturally.

As if she had already accepted it.

Emman’s eyes widened slightly.

Then—

A small smile appeared on his face.

It was soft.

But real.

The kind of smile that only came when a child felt safe again.

He quickly wrote something again.

“Where is he now?”

Meave looked at him.

“He’s in his room,” she replied.

“You can go visit him.”

That was all Emman needed to hear.

He immediately stood up.

His movements were quick, full of excitement.

He held his notebook tightly and looked at her one last time.

Then—

He ran.

His small footsteps echoed lightly as he rushed back into the mansion.

Back to Earl.

Meave remained where she was.

Sitting beside the pool.

Alone again.

The silence returned.

But it felt different now.

She looked at the water.

Her reflection stared back at her.

Calm.

Composed.

But inside—

There was something new.

Something she could not ignore anymore.

She thought about Earl.

The way he spoke.

The way he treated Emman.

The way he looked at her.

There was no fear.

No calculation.

No hidden intention.

Just sincerity.

And somehow—

That sincerity reached Emman.

In a way she never could.

Her hand slowly rested on her lap.

“This…” she whispered to herself.

Her voice was soft.

Almost lost in the quiet night.

“It’s real.”

She looked toward the direction where Emman ran.

Then slightly lowered her gaze.

Thinking of Earl again.

Thinking of everything that was happening.

And for the first time in a long while—

Meave did not feel in control.

Not of her condition.

Not of her emotions.

And especially not of him.

Emman ran as fast as his small legs could carry him.

His footsteps echoed through the long hallway of the Castillon mansion, light but hurried. He held his notebook tightly against his chest, his heart beating fast—not from fear this time, but from excitement.

He did not stop.

He did not look around.

All he could think about was one person.

Earl.

When he reached the door, he did not even knock properly. He pushed it open with both hands, slightly out of breath.

Inside the room, Earl was sitting quietly.

He was still thinking about everything that had happened earlier. His mind was full, his thoughts scattered.

But when the door suddenly opened—

He looked up.

And there he saw him.

Emman.

The boy stood there, breathing heavily, but smiling.

A real smile.

One that reached his eyes.

“Hey…” Earl said softly.

Before he could say anything more, Emman ran straight toward him.

He didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t stop.

He went directly into Earl’s arms and hugged him tightly.

Earl was caught off guard for a moment.

But then—

His body relaxed.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around the child.

Carefully.

Gently.

As if he was holding something fragile.

“Easy… easy…” Earl said with a small smile.

Emman didn’t let go.

Instead, he tightened his grip, pressing his face against Earl’s chest.

As if he was afraid that if he loosened his hold, Earl might disappear.

Earl felt it.

That fear.

That need.

And it made his chest tighten.

“What’s wrong?” Earl asked softly.

Emman pulled away slightly, then quickly opened his notebook.

His hands moved fast as he wrote something.

Then he showed it to him.

“I thought you would leave.”

Earl stared at the words.

His expression softened.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied.

His voice was calm.

Reassuring.

Emman looked at him for a moment.

Then slowly, a smile formed again on his face.

A brighter one this time.

He wrote again.

“Really?”

Earl nodded.

“Really.”

Emman’s shoulders relaxed.

Then he sat beside Earl, still close, as if he didn’t want to be too far from him.

Earl looked at him and smiled.

“You ran all the way here just for that?” he asked.

Emman nodded.

Without hesitation.

That simple action made Earl chuckle softly.

“You’re something else,” he said.

Then he gently patted the boy’s head.

Emman didn’t move away.

Instead, he leaned slightly closer.

Comfortable.

Safe.

From a distance—

Meave stood quietly in the hallway.

She had followed him.

Not too close.

Just enough to see.

And now, she was there.

Watching.

Her eyes fixed on the scene inside the room.

She saw everything.

The way Emman ran.

The way he hugged Earl.

The way Earl responded.

No hesitation.

No discomfort.

Just natural.

Warm.

Real.

Meave’s chest tightened slightly.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t interrupt.

She just stood there.

Silent.

Observing something she had never seen before.

Her son—

Laughing.

Smiling.

Clinging to someone.

Not out of fear.

But out of trust.

Her eyes softened.

Just a little.

“He’s happy…” she whispered to herself.

The words were quiet.

But they carried weight.

For so long, she had tried everything.

Doctors.

Therapies.

Isolation.

Protection.

But none of it gave this result.

And now—

Earl did.

Without even trying.

Meave remained in the shadows of the hallway.

Still.

Watching them.

As Emman sat beside Earl, smiling like a child who finally found something he didn’t want to lose.