“Before you say anything,” she whispered, “you need to know something.”
Damon’s voice came out rough.
“What is this?”
Sylvie looked down at the babies.
Then back at him.
“I wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
Her eyes glistened.
“I was pregnant.”
The words hit him with such force that he took a step backward.
“What?”
“I found out two weeks before I filed for divorce.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No,” she said softly.
“What’s impossible is how hard I tried to reach you.”
Damon stared at her.
Every memory from the last year returned at once.
Sylvie waiting alone at a restaurant after he missed their anniversary dinner.
Sylvie standing in the doorway of his study while he finished a call.
Sylvie asking him to take one weekend away from the company.
Sylvie saying, “One day, Damon, you’ll look up and realize your life happened without you.”
He had kissed her forehead and promised tomorrow.
Tomorrow after the merger.
Tomorrow after the hearing.
Tomorrow after the launch.
Always tomorrow.
Until she stopped asking.
“You never told me,” he said.
A sad smile touched her lips.
“I tried.”
She nodded toward the bedside table.
A stack of envelopes rested beside a water pitcher.
Damon crossed the room slowly.
His name was written across every envelope in Sylvie’s handwriting.
Some were marked RETURN TO SENDER.
Others had been opened and resealed.
He picked up the top one.
“I never received these.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I didn’t know at first.” Sylvie’s voice trembled.
“When you stopped answering calls, I thought you hated me.
Then I received messages from your number.”
“What messages?”
She reached for her phone and opened a folder of screenshots.
Damon read the first one.
Do not contact me again.
The pregnancy changes nothing.
The second was worse.
If those children are mine, my attorneys will make sure you never use them against me.
The third made his stomach turn.
Disappear, Sylvie.
Take the settlement and be grateful I am allowing you to leave.
Damon looked up.
“I did not write these.”
