Chapter 7

Her voice was light, a little confused. "Why are you... crying?"

She tried to lift her hand to touch his face, but didn't have the strength.

Damon cried harder. He wiped the tears away quickly and forced a smile.

"It's nothing. I'm okay. Evie, how do you feel? Does anything hurt?"

Evelyn shook her head softly, her eyes moving over his face, her brow gently drawing together. "You look terrible. Are you working too hard? Don't push yourself."

She paused, like remembering something, and a light came into her eyes. "Oh — how did the final pick of the ceremony photos turn out?"

"And the venue — did you decide on the meadow or by the sea? Mom called me a few days ago to ask. She's more anxious than I am..."

Her mouth curved up into the smallest smile.

She had no idea that she was in a hospital, or that her mother was gone.

Damon's chest hurt so much he couldn't breathe. He pressed his face into the back of her cold hand.

The guilt was going to rip him apart.

"What's wrong?" A note of worry came into her voice. "Did... something happen?"

Damon snapped his head up, shook it hard, pushed out a smile. "No! Nothing happened. The photos look great. The venue's all set. Everything's going well."

"You... you just slipped and ended up in the hospital. I'll take you home soon. I promise."

Evelyn let out a breath. "That's good... you really scared me."

"But how could I be so careless? I want to go home. I miss Mom..."

Her uncle stood at the door, watching, and even he couldn't keep his eyes dry.

He turned away, wiped his face hard, and said to Damon, voice raw, "Take good care of her. Don't let her... go through anything else."

A few days later, Evelyn's condition was stable enough to be moved to a regular room.

After more observation, she could finally be discharged.

Damon pushed everything aside to pick her up himself.

The car rolled into the garage of the new home they'd bought for the mating, and Damon carefully carried her out.

A flicker of confusion crossed her face. "But we haven't had our ceremony yet. How are we already living in the new place?"

Damon held the woman in his arms.

A realization slammed into his heart, late but hard.

This was it.

This.

Strip away the lies, the hiding, the duty, the calculations — just this.

The person he loved in his arms. A home that belonged to the two of them. Nothing in his eyes or his heart but her. A future with only them in it.

This was a satisfaction that shook him and held him at the same time.

Love was, at its core, selfish. Exclusive.

He'd once used "duty" to let himself off. But deep down, had he ever really been willing to share a single piece of Evelyn's love and attention with anyone else?

This dependence he'd almost lost and now had back pulled him under.

It also let the small, hidden relief in him grow wildly.

Until Chloe showed up at their door.

Damon hadn't reached out to Chloe in nearly two months.

He hadn't gone back to that villa either.

The lack of any answer, and his private line staying completely off, put her on edge.

She couldn't hold back any more. She found his and Evelyn's new home.

Damon opened the door.

When he saw her, his brow knit fast.

In his memory, Chloe had been like an ivy clinging to a corner of a wall.

Quiet, timid, waiting for whatever attention he'd spare, never crossing a line.

Never showing up at a time he hadn't approved, or a place he hadn't approved.

Her "sweetness" had been the reason he'd been able to keep her neatly out of the way of the rest of his life.

And now she was standing, without warning, in the space that belonged to him and Evelyn.

It made his skin crawl.

"Didn't I tell you to stay put and not wander?"

Chloe pouted, injured.

She looked past him at the bright, warm living room, looked at the soft sweater he was wearing...

so different from the sharp-suited, always-on-the-move man she knew.

"Damon... I'm scared. Scared you don't want me anymore. How's... how's Miss Evelyn?"

Damon glanced back instinctively, and Evelyn was just leaning out from the dining room, curious.

"Damon, who is it? Do we have a guest?"

"Just... a distant relative passing through."

Damon rushed out the answer and tried to keep Chloe out in the doorway.

But Evelyn was already coming over. She slipped her arm through Damon's, warm and easy, and smiled with no suspicion at all.

"Hello. I'm Damon's mate-to-be, Evelyn. Come in and sit down, we're just about to eat."

Chloe was herded inside.

Through dinner, she saw that Damon's attention and care, all of which used to be hers alone, had moved to Evelyn.

Picking out food for her, serving her soup, wiping her mouth. Careful with her.

Her hand under the table tightened, then loosened, then tightened again.

What cut colder was that she tried, a few times, to bring up the old home, to bring up Damon's parents, and he cut her off smoothly every time.

The warning in Damon's eyes kept getting clearer.

After dinner, Damon stepped away for a call.

In the living room, it was just the two women.

Chloe stared at Evelyn across from her, whose face was calm.

"Evelyn, you think you're happy right now, don't you?"

Her voice pulled tight.

Evelyn only smiled faintly, as close as she could get to a yes.

The reaction cut right into Chloe.

She pushed forward a step, and her voice went sharp:

"You really forgot how your mother died with her eyes wide open at your ceremony? Forgot how your baby turned into a pool of blood on your ceremony gown?"