"Tell me, what does she think of me!!" Darlington yelled, looking at me with burning eyes. "Actually, when she entered, she sighted and also heard you say ‘let’s leave, we are moving,’ while holding my hand, so she thinks you're trying to break her parents. And so she doesn't want me or her to go with you." "What do you mean by ‘she thinks I'm trying to break her parents’? So do you mean you'll stay here with him and act like the both of you are Diane's parents?" Darlington said, with teary eyes and a cracked voice. I couldn't just leave Darlington—not after everything we've been through, not after the moment we shared—so I decided I was going to leave Diane with Shawn in order to avoid her health deteriorating. "No, Darlington. We are leaving—together. And congratulations to you, Shawn, you got your daughter back. Life is so favourable to you, you've never lost anything. But as for me, it just keeps taking without giving me anything in return." "Rennie, you can't leave. All we
I didn’t expect silence to hurt this much. After everything I’d said—the confession, the pain, the unravelled past—the silence felt like punishment. Darlington stood strong, one hand still gripping the back of the plastic chair. His face was unreadable, but I knew that look. Hurt, covered by control. And Shawn? He looked like he had been tackled by the very air. Shawn took a step forward, voice low, eyes burning. "I didn’t know, Rennie. I swear, I didn’t know." Darlington shifted. "Of course you didn’t. You gave her a fake name, a fake phone number, and a lie about marriage. Then you disappeared." Shawn's head snapped toward him. "Who are you to judge me?" Darlington stepped forward slowly. Calm, but cutting. "I'm the man who wouldn't use an eighteen-year-old for their selfish motive." "She didn't tell me she was eighteen years old." "Even if she was twenty-four, you had no right to desert the poor girl." The tension thickened as the two men faced the wall with teary eyes,
The car slowed as we approached the hospital, tires gliding over the smooth pavement as we braced ourselves for a craggy ride. Outside, the skies dimmed gray—clouded, but not quite raining. It mirrored everything I felt inside: uncertain, weighed down, trembling at the edge of collapse.Darlington stepped out first, buttoning his jacket. He looked so controlled, so put-together, but I could see the strain in his jaw, the unspoken questions in his eyes. He then reached his hands towards Diane, gently lifting her out like she was made of glass. She giggled, her arms wrapping around his neck, and I hated how much that giggle already felt like borrowed time.I stepped out last, my fingers curling tighter around my phone. The notification from Dr. Hensley was still there. Unread, technically. But read a hundred times in my head.Paternity Result: Positive Match Biological Father: SHAWN DAMIAN WOLFEHe was already waiting.Shawn stood by the hospital entrance, leaning against the wall like
The following morning wasn’t so ecstatic for me. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how my life had twisted into this. On one hand, there was Shawn—the man I once prayed to leave my life... yet still found myself jealous whenever I saw him with others. And on the other, Darlington—who saw my scars, my flaws, and still wanted to marry me. It was a strange sadness. Heavy. Quiet. Familiar. I was so lost in thought, curled beneath the sheets, that Diane had to come wake me up herself. “Morning, Mom. What’s going on? You didn’t even wake me up this morning.” “Yeah, I’m just so stressed, with begging your dad… and my outing.” “Okay, but is it a wrong time to say I'm hungry,if not I’m hungry.” “Alright,” I whispered. “Let’s get breakfast.” She grinned. “Can I make pancakes?” “You’re not allowed near heat without supervision.” “But I can pour the mix!” “Deal, just stay away from heat” I rolled out of bed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. 1 m
"Okay, Shawn, we’re on our way home," I said, lifting up my bag. "Wait a minute! I thought you were going back home to Diane," Shawn replied, utterly confused—his tone carrying a hint of jealousy and insecurity. "Oh, I am. But I just need to see Darlington off. You know, it’s been over a month since I went home, so once I see him off and get some of my things, I’ll head back to Diane." "What are the things you need back at his place? Tell me, and I’ll send Jeff or one of my staff to get them—so you can go home to Diane." After Shawn said this, I knew he wasn’t really concerned about Diane. No—he was concerned about me going to Darlington’s house. I didn’t even mean to make him jealous, but somehow, I’d hit him right on his emotional bull's-eye. Now imagine what would happen if I tried to make him jealous on purpose. It didn’t feel wrong to me. After all, if he could bring his Las Vegas mistress—sorry, old friend—to make me jealous, then I could bring my Las Vegas fiancé.
“Why was this meeting scheduled today, and was it that necessary that it required a third wheel?” Shawn asked sarcastically, setting his mug under the coffee machine for a refill. Darlington watched closely, noticing how Shawn preferred his coffee pitch-black—no cream, no sugar. And the way he drank it without a sound made him visibly uneasy. But to me? Both his preference for black coffee and his silent slurping were nothing new. Shawn Wolfe, the thirty-two-year-old billionaire and single dad, who had four multi-billion-dollar companies under his name and diverse brand partnerships—from tech to fashion—only had one powerhouse: dark coffee. It was his fuel. And with the way he lived and worked, it had to be. “Well, Mr. Sha—” Darlington began, trying to remain civil. But Shawn decided to go down the uncouth lane by spitting out a mouthful of coffee before Darlington could finish his sentence. Not only did Shawn give a gesture of disrespect, he also made a statement: “Sorr