Still, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. None of this was his fault. As I watched him play, my hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach.
A secret I had been carrying quietly for weeks.
I was pregnant.
I had planned to tell Damien on our anniversary. I imagined his reaction so clearly—shock, then joy, then him pulling me into his arms like nothing else mattered. I thought maybe it would fix everything between us.
But now…
What was the point?
He didn’t love me. Not really. Only what I brought into his life.
I was still lost in that thought when a sudden cry broke the air.
“Ethan!”
The small cart he was riding veered out of control, wobbling before flipping over completely. He fell hard onto the gravel, his knees scraping against the ground.
I didn’t think—I just ran.
“Ethan!” I called, dropping beside him as he cried in pain. Blood had started to form on his knee, dirt clinging to the wound.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you,” I whispered, lifting him into my arms despite his resistance. “I’ve got you. Auntie’s here.”
We rushed straight to the hospital.
Hours passed.
Then the door burst open.
Damien stormed in, face tense, eyes blazing.