Trapped with My Billionaire Ex-Husband (Blair and Sebastian)
Chapter 49

Chapter 49

BLAIRE

I've been so occupied with Blaze's transfer to New York that the night Sebastian and I were supposed to meet completely slipped my mind. I was too focused on organizing

ths for Blaze's surgery. After a couple of considerations, his doctor finally arranged

his transfer. And on that night, I found myself in the airport, anxiously waiting for Blaze’s arrival.

The bustling terminal echoed with the hum of travellers and the occasional announcements over the intercom. My attention, however, remained tethered to the arrival gate, where anticipation and worry intertwined. As the minutes stretched into hours, I couldn't shake the unease that accompanied the unpredictability of the situation.

Blaze's condition weighed heavily on my mind, overshadowing any other commitments, including the clandestine arrangement with Sebastian. The neon-lit airport served as a stark backdrop to the complexities of my life, where the urgency of a mother's love eclipsed the shadows of secret dealings.

In the midst of the bustling crowd, I clutched my phone, checking for updates on Blaze's journey. Ethan insisted on bringing Blaze here in New York. He can't stay here for long, but I'm thankful that he still managed to travel with Blaze all the way here.

As the night unfolded, my thoughts oscillated between the imminent arrival of my son and the unkept appointment with Sebastian. The realization that I had neglected a commitment, however reluctant, sparked a flicker of guilt, further entangled in the intricate web of responsibilities that defined this chapter of my life.

The echoes of airport announcements and the distant hum of travelers became a backdrop to the emotional turbulence within, as I awaited Blaze's arrival with a heart torn between the present urgency and the unresolved promises of the past.

“Mommy!”

My face lit up when I heard that familiar squeaky voice coming from my son. I saw him waving his hand, trying to get my attention. Relief washed over me at the sight of him. I was worried that he might not be able to withstand the flight coming here. But I'm glad that he managed to get through it and arrived here safely.

I rushed to embrace him, the worries and fears momentarily forgotten in the warmth. of our reunion. “Blaze, my love, I missed you so much,” I whispered, holding him close.

Despite the joy of being reunited, the dark circles under his eyes and the pale colour of his lips were stark reminders that his health was not doing any better. As I held him, a

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mix of emotions played across my face. — a mother’s elation at having her child back and the gnawing concern for his well-being.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, searching for signs of discomfort.

Blaze managed a weak smile. “I'm okay, Mommy. I'm just a little tired.” “How was the flight?” I asked him, forcing a smile on my face.

Blaze hesitated for a moment before responding, his eyes reflecting the weariness of the journey. “It was okay. I slept for most of it. Everyone was nice to me, and they all gave me treats,” he said excitedly.

I looked at Ethan worriedly. There are few restrictions with his diet, so I'm worried that

may cause him harm.

it

“Don’t worry. The doctors give specific orders to the airline regarding his condition. They didn’t give him something that wasn't good for him,” Ethan assured me.

Relief washed over me at his words, knowing that my son had received the care and attention he needed during the journey. As we made our way through the airport, I kept a watchful eye on him, my maternal instincts attuned to any signs of distress.

“You did great, sweetheart,” I reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “We're going to the hospital now, and soon you'll be feeling much better, okay?”

Blaze nodded, a flicker of hope in his tired eyes. Our dialogue, though simple, carried the weight of unspoken promises a mother's commitment to see her child through adversity and a son's trust that echoed in the way he looked up at me.

“Thank you for coming with Blaze, Ethan. I know you don't have to. But it still means a lot to me knowing that my son flew with someone I trusted.”

“Thank you for coming with Blaze, Ethan. I know you didn’t have to. But it still means a lot to me, knowing that my son flew with someone I trusted.”

Ethan smiled warmly, a genuine reassurance in his eyes. “Blaire, I wouldn't have it any other way. Blaze is like family to me, and I want to support both of you through this.”

I felt a surge of gratitude for Ethan's unwavering support, a friend who had become a pillar of strength in the tumultuous journey we were navigating. The airport corridor echoed with the footsteps of passengers, a backdrop to the heartfelt exchange between two individuals bound by a shared commitment to a child's well-being. Blaze, still holding my hand, looked up at Ethan with a tired yet grateful expression. “Thank you, Uncle Ethan,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

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Ethan ruffled Blaze’s hair affectionately. “Anytime, champ. We're a team, remember?”

As we made our way to the hospital, the trio of us a mother, a son, and a friend — formed an unconventional but resilient unit. The unspoken camaraderie among us carried a quiet strength, a testament to the bonds forged in the crucible of challenging circumstances.

The hospital's entrance loomed ahead, marking the next phase of our journey. The dialogue between us may have been simple, but the undercurrent of shared responsibility and mutual support was a powerful force that guided us into the unknown. Together, we stepped into the hospital, ready to face whatever lay ahead in the pursuit of hope and healing

to

In the hushed corridors of the hospital, the scent of antiseptic lingered as a backdrop the echoing footsteps of doctors and nurses. Blaze, still holding my hand, cast a glance. at the unfamiliar surroundings. The subdued lighting created a sense of solemnity that mirrored the weight of the decisions we were about to make for his well-being.

Ethan, ever the reassuring presence, walked beside us with a quiet determination. “Blaire, if there's anything you need, just let me know. I'll be right here,” he said, offering a supportive smile.

“Thank you, Ethan. Your support means more than I can express,” I replied, feeling the weight of gratitude in my words.

As we approached the hospital room, Blaze's weariness was evident. The dialogue between us shifted to comforting assurances, acknowledging the challenges that lay ahead.

“We'll get through this, Blaze. Mommy's right here, and so is Uncle Ethan. We're a team, remember?” I whispered, echoing Ethan's earlier words.

Blaze managed a small nod, his trust in our makeshift family evident in his eyes. The hospital bed awaited him, a canvas for the medical team to paint the brushstrokes of recovery.

As Blaze settled into the room, a nurse entered to discuss the upcoming procedures and the details of the surgery. The dialogue shifted to medical terms and treatment plans, an intricate dance of information exchange that sought to restore health and hope.

In the quiet moments between medical discussions, Ethan and I shared glances that spoke volumes a shared commitment to Blaze's well- being, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges ahead, and the unspoken understanding that in this journey, we were bound by more than mere friendship.

“Would you like to spend the night here? I can book you a hotel for tonight. You can take the flight first thing in the morning,” I suggested to Ethan.

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“There's no need for that. I jus

want to make sure you and Blaze are settled before 1 I go back. I will stay here to be with the two of you if I could. But...”

I cut him off immediately. “No, don’t. You've done so much already, Ethan. I'm grateful for everything. I'll be the one who should feel guilty for taking up all your time when you don't have to.”

Ethan's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between us. “Blaire, you're not a burden. You and Blaze are important to me. I want to be here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you, Ethan.”

“No worries, Blaire. I'm happy to help. But now that you and Blaze are already settled here in the hospital, I'm going back to the airport to catch the earliest flight to Hawaii.” His willingness to be there for us, even at the cost of rearranging his own plans, touched my heart. “Ethan, you've been a rock for us. I don’t know how to repay you for everything.”

He grinned, a warm reassurance in his eyes. “No need for repayment, Blaire. Just focus on Blaze and get through this. I'll stay in touch and come back whenever I can.”

As Ethan prepared to leave, the hospital room felt emptier, but his support lingered like a comforting echo. The dialogue of genuine friendship, etched in the moments we shared, remained a source of strength as he bid us farewell.

“Take care, Blaire. Give Blaze a hug for me, and let me know if you need anything.” Ethan said, his words a promise that transcended the physical distance that would soon

separate us.

As he left the room, the gentle closing of the door marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another in our unfolding journey. In the dialogue of shared experiences, Ethan's impact on our lives resonated, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, genuine connections endure and provide a beacon of support when we need

it most.

With Ethan's departure, a gentle sense of solitude enveloped me, prompting a sudden craving for the comforting embrace of a good cup of coffee. As we made our way to the hospital, I spotted a nearby coffee shop just a few blocks away.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned, promising solace in a steaming mug. I glanced at Blaze, still peacefully asleep, his weariness evident from the journey. It seemed like he'd find respite in the morning, allowing me a brief moment to step away.

Entering the coffee shop, the warmth of the cosy atmosphere embraced me. The soft murmur of conversations provided a soothing backdrop. I approached the counter, the

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Chapter 49

anticipation of that first sip of coffee bringing a momentary respite to the weight on my shoulders.

“Can I get a strong black coffee, please?” I requested the simplicity of the order mirroring my desire for a moment of quiet reflection.

As the barista prepared the coffee, I found a secluded corner, a quiet sanctuary amidst the bustling world outside. The first sip delivered a comforting bitterness, grounding me in the present. With the warmth of the cup in my hands, I allowed myself a moment of stillness.

After a couple of minutes, I decided to go back to the hospital. But it hadn't been long since I stepped out of the coffee shop when a black sedan suddenly stopped in front of me. In just a matter of seconds, I found myself being forcefully shoved right into the

car.

And in that moment that I have been forced into that car, all I could think of was my son, who was currently lying alone in the hospital bed. “Who are you, and where are you taking me?” I asked the man driving the car, but he remained silent.

“Mr. President needs a word with you, Miss Banks.”

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