Chapter 5

Damon was silent for only a beat, then laughed under his breath. "She really is putting on a show."

"Yesterday, weren't you and the others betting that she was too proud to ever tolerate Chloe's existence?"

"And now this melodrama — all this life-or-death..."

His tone was smug and mocking. "It's just about blowing things up big enough to force me to declare in public and throw Chloe out. Women and their ultimatums. Same old tricks."

"But, Damon, something feels off this time."

"Did Evelyn maybe have a miscarriage?"

"Word is, your mother-in-law... passed out cold on the spot seeing the blood. Everything fell apart."

"They've cleared the hall now. I don't know what's going on. You, uh, want to come back?"

The pressure of the past days and the mess of the last hour put Damon's irritation at its peak.

"Enough, Declan."

Damon cut him off.

Looking down at the pale Chloe in his arms, the small unease Declan's voice had raised was quickly buried by his resentment of Evelyn's "manipulation."

"My mother-in-law isn't so fragile that a scene like that would actually knock her out."

"The old woman loves her daughter, so she played along with the act, to back her up."

"And a miscarriage is impossible. Nobody knows better than her how badly I've wanted a child of our own."

"If she'd really gotten pregnant, she would've used that right away — pinned the name, pinned Chloe, dealt with all of it in one clean stroke."

Declan tried to say more, but Damon's voice came through again:

"I've been too easy on her. That's why she thinks she can get to me with this kind of thing."

"But—"

"Fine. I know what I'm doing. I'll hang up. I'll deal with this side first."

Damon hung up on Declan and tossed the phone aside.

He told the driver to go easy and carefully adjusted the position of the woman in his arms so she'd be more comfortable.

He brushed away the strands of hair sweat-stuck to her forehead.

Look.

Chloe was simple, fragile, needing all his protection and attention.

And Evelyn...

His eyes darkened.

When had she become this calculating, to the point of using a tactic like this to fight?

It was disappointing.

He'd thought they were soul-deep matches who didn't need those petty formalities.

He'd chosen to tell her the truth before the ceremony because he was sure their bond was strong enough to absorb this "leftover problem."

He thought Evelyn would understand.

That she'd be like she had been for six years, patient with his difficulties, willing to accept the "best solution" he'd set up.

Six years. Not six days.

They'd been happy, in love, perfectly matched in every way.

But no matter how well they fit, he had to make her understand — there were lines that couldn't be crossed.

Some choices weren't hers to push.

At the hospital, the doctor's tone was flat after the exam.

"Nothing serious. Emotional swings probably did more than anything physical."

Listening to it, Damon felt a sudden irritation he couldn't name.

He hadn't really wanted Chloe to be in danger.

It was just that in this moment, he finally saw clearly what the accident had interrupted — the ceremony he had carefully planned with Evelyn.

It could have gone through smoothly.

Chloe tugged on his sleeve, face small and sorry: "Damon, I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to. I didn't know the ceremony was today. I just felt awful and wanted to see you. I didn't think it would turn into this."

"Did I... make trouble for you and Miss Evelyn again?"

Looking at her helpless, fragile face, his irritation finally gave way to the worn-out sense of duty.

He let out a breath, softer now. "It's fine. Don't be so impulsive next time. Get some rest."

He turned to go handle the bill, and a group of medical staff rushed past, pushing a gurney.

The sheet was pulled up high, leaving only one hand hanging out the side, drained of blood.

Damon's eyes caught, by reflex, on a familiar mole on the back of that hand.

His feet stopped for a second. He told himself he must be seeing things.

Probably because his mind was full of how to go back and clean up the mess, how to "explain" to Evelyn, and that was why he'd taken that hand to be hers.

After everything was settled, he walked out of the hospital with Chloe.

There was a strange unease in him.

Chloe said, suddenly, that she was hungry.

He took her to a quiet restaurant nearby.

When they came out, the cold air cleared his head a little.

Damon took out his phone.

Only then did he realize he'd been gone from the ceremony for a while, and Evelyn hadn't tried to reach him once.

He paused, then called her.

The first time, nobody picked up.

Damon frowned, held his patience, and tried again.

Just when he thought nobody would pick up again, the call connected.

The string pulled tight in his chest loosened for a moment.

"Hello?"

He adjusted his tone. "Evie, I know you were hurt today, but what happened has happened. Chloe's fine, I've handled it."

"The ceremony turned into a mess. Everyone's embarrassed. But it's okay, we'll pick another day, I promise you it'll be better next time, better and cleaner. Calm down. Don't lose your temper. When I'm back we'll—"

"Hello," a completely unfamiliar woman's voice cut him off. "Are you family of this phone's owner?"

Damon's words stalled.

The lecture he'd prepared locked in his throat.

He froze, couldn't catch up. "...Who is this? Where's Evelyn?"

"This is the emergency room at Ashford General Hospital. The owner of the phone is in surgery and cannot take the call."

"Surgery?" Damon's voice shot up. "What surgery?"

"The patient suffered a miscarriage with severe bleeding.