Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband

(Lisa)

I carry the tray carefully into the room, the smell of generic hospital soup wafting up.

Winona's sitting up in bed. She looks pale but more alert, her eyes flicking toward me as I set the tray down on the small table beside her bed.

"Dinner is served," I announce, gesturing to the soup like I'm unveiling a five-star meal. "Courtesy of the world-renowned Hospital Cafeteria. I am willing to risk my life and my palate eating this with you."

Winona lets out a faint laugh, the sound weak but genuine. "You're a true hero, Lisa. Braving the wilds of hospital dining for me."

"You'd better appreciate it," I say, as I sit beside her again. "I even got crackers. They didn't come with the soup, so I had to charm the grumpy lady at the counter. She now thinks I'm a struggling single mom of five kids, so you owe me." Winona raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Five kids? Really?"

"Hey, I panicked, okay? She looked like the kind of person who gives you the stink eye for even asking. But the point is, I got the crackers. Now eat before I start spoon-feeding you like you're Henry."

She smiles but picks up the spoon, stirring the soup slowly. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"It's part of my charm," I reply, as I take a spoonful of soup.

"Mmmmm mmmm. Tasty as fuck." I lie. But it could be worse.

"You forget, I've had plenty of hospital soup. I know you're lying." Winona takes a tentative sip of the soup, and I watch her closely, noting the way her shoulders relax just a fraction. "See, it's not that bad, is it?"

"Not terrible at all," she admits. "But not Lobster Bisque either."novelbin

"Take me back to Europe, please! The food is to die for."

"I will miss the food."

"Wait... You aren't going back?"

"I don't know, I mean I was. That was the plan...but now...I really want to explore this financial app and I can't do that from Brussels, not yet anyway."

"I can't say I'd be sad to see you stay here."

"Jayden and I haven't fully discussed it. I have to consider the kids too."

"This is exactly why I can never be a mother. I'm just too selfish, you know? I like making decisions for me and just me."

"You are not selfish."

"I'm also not mother material. Not like you. It's too tough a gig for me."

Winona glances at me, her spoon pausing mid-air. "Yeah," she says softly. "Tough doesn't even begin to cover it at times. But it's also... everything. It's the hardest, most rewarding thing I've ever done. I

wouldn't give it up for anything."

I nod, chewing on the cracker thoughtfully. "I don't know how you do it. Kids are cute and all, but the idea of being responsible for tiny whole other humans? Hard pass for me."

She smiles faintly. "It's not for everyone. And that's okay. I don't think females should have to want babies because they have wombs..."

Winona pauses.

"You okay? You don't have to feel incomplete or less than because yours is gone either."

"It will take some getting used to. But I will get there. And if you ever chose to, you'd make a brilliant mother."

I hesitate, the cracker crumbling slightly in my hand. "You know, Lance and I... we talked about it. As you know, in those final days, he said if he ever had kids, he would want it to be with me."

Winona's gaze sharpens, and she sets the spoon down, giving me her full attention. "He did love you. He just was never sticking around. He knew that. Now we know that."

I shrug, trying to keep my tone

casual. "But there was a time, when I

was younger, when I thought maybe that's what I wanted. With him,

We'd

specifically. I thought... Maybe settle down one day, have a couple

of kids, build a life

but I'm

glad I never forced that issue. It

would've been a mistake."

""You sure?"

I eat some more soup hoping to encourage her to do the same. "Parenthood's not for me," I say firmly. "And that's okay. I'm not... maternal like you are. And I'm not built for that kind of responsibility. I can barely keep a houseplant alive."

Winona's lips

curve

into a small

smile. "Lisa, motherhood isn't about

being perfect. It's messy and

exhausting and sometimes

downright infuriating. But it's also beautiful. You don't have to be 'maternal' to be a good parent. You just have to love your kids and try your best."

"Yeah, well, I'm still glad I'll never have to find out," I say, grabbing another cracker. "No offense, but watching you juggle four kids and a husband who's basically a fifth kid half the time? Not exactly selling the dream here." She laughs softly. "It's not for everyone. But it works for me."

We fall into a comfortable silence. I watch her as she slowly finishes the soup, her movements deliberate but steady. I know she's forcing the food in but I know she's doing that to give her recovery the best chance. "You're doing better," I say quietly.

She looks up at me, her eyes soft but tired. "Trying," she admits.

"That's all you can do," I reply. "And for the record? You're doing a hell of a job."

She gives me a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Lis."

"Anytime," I say, leaning back in my chair. "Now, I have a surprise for you."

I pull two containers out of my bag. "Green Jello, you can thank me later."

"I'll be glad when I'm strong enough to hit you."