LOGINThe doctors gathered us in the same small consultation room where I'd gotten the first update. Me, Catherine, Richard, and Marcus who'd insisted on being there even though he wasn't family. Dr. Patel, the neurosurgeon, looked exhausted. Like he'd been in surgery for days instead of hours. "Mr. Sterling's condition has stabilized for now," he began. "But I need to be very clear about the severity of his injuries. The traumatic brain injury is significant. We've managed to control some of the swelling with medication, but his brain is still under considerable stress." "What does that mean exactly?" Richard asked. "It means we're keeping him in a medically induced coma to give his brain time to heal. We're controlling the sedation levels carefully, monitoring his intracranial pressure constantly. But even with all our interventions, the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours are critical." "Critical how?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Dr. Patel looked at me directly. "T
MARCUS I was pacing the hallway outside the ICU when Catherine Sterling found me. "This is your fault." I turned to face her. She looked older than I'd ever seen her. Tired. Terrified. Furious. "Mrs. Sterling..." "Don't. Don't try to explain or apologize or whatever you're planning to do. My son is in a coma because of you. Because you told him about the pregnancy. Because you couldn't keep your mouth shut." She was right. She was absolutely right. "I didn't mean to tell him. It slipped out. We were talking and I said something about Eve being careful while traveling and he just—he figured it out. I tried to stop him from leaving, tried to get him to calm down, but he wouldn't listen. He just grabbed his keys and ran." "And you let him go. You let him get in a car when he was clearly not in any state to drive." "I tried to stop him..." "You didn't try hard enough." Her voice broke. "My son might die, Marcus. He might never wake up. And if he does wake up, they're saying the
I ignored the buzz of my phone the second it lit up...news alerts about the accident, texts from numbers I didn’t recognize, probably reporters who’d dug up my info somehow. I swiped them all away and opened my chat with Lara Jean instead. Me: Is it true the divorce decree doesn’t go into effect for 30 days? Her reply popped up almost instantly. Lara Jean: Yes. Standard waiting period in NY. Why? What’s wrong? Me: Damon was in a car accident. He’s in surgery. Am I still legally his wife? Lara Jean: Yes. Until the 30 days are up, you’re still married in the eyes of the law. You’re his next of kin. Is he okay? Me: I don’t know. I’m going to the hospital now. Lara Jean: Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.I watched JFK shrink in the rear window, watched my escape route disappear, watched London turn into something that might never happen now. I tried not to think about what I was doing. Tried not to question whether this was right. Tried not to wonder if I was making th
EVEFriday morning arrived too quickly. I woke up at five AM in my empty apartment, the early flight to London looming. Two suitcases packed. A one-way ticket in my email. Everything ready.Everything final.I got dressed carefully...loose black travel pants with an elastic waist, a long flowing tunic that skimmed over the bump, a cardigan to layer over everything. The pregnancy was obvious if you knew what to look for. But to strangers, I’d just look like someone who’d gained a little weight. Someone tired from early-morning travel. Nothing suspicious.I checked the apartment one last time. Empty rooms that used to hold furniture. Bare walls that used to have photos. Kitchen cabinets stripped of everything except dust. This place had been my refuge after Damon kicked me out of the penthouse. The place where I’d cried myself to sleep. Where I’d planned my escape.And now I was leaving it behind like everything else.Jessica had offered to drive me to the airport, but I’d said no. Good
EVE'S POV I turned my phone back on Tuesday evening. Seventeen missed calls. Twelve from Marcus. Three from unknown numbers that were probably Damon. Two from Jessica. And one from a number I didn't recognize with a New York area code. I deleted the voicemails without listening. Blocked the unknown numbers. And sent Jessica a text. Me: I'm fine. Phone was off. Still leaving Thursday day. Her response came immediately. Jessica: He's desperate. He wants to talk to you. Me: I don't care what he wants. Jessica: I know. Just letting you know he's not giving up. Me: He doesn't have a choice. I'm leaving in two days and he doesn't know where I'm going. Jessica: Marcus might figure it out. Me: Then don't tell Marcus anything. Please. Jessica: I won't. But Eve, are you sure about this? About leaving without at least hearing what he has to say? Me: I'm sure. I don't need to hear his apologies. I don't need to know how sorry he is. It doesn't change anything. Jessica: Okay.
"What?" "I said get out. Both of you. Get out of my life. I don't want your advice anymore. I don't want your opinions. I don't want anything to do with you." "Damon, you're being dramatic..." "I'm being honest. You helped destroy my marriage and you're standing here acting like it was for the best. Like Eve leaving is just some natural consequence instead of the direct result of your manipulation and my stupidity. So I'm done. I'm done listening to you, done taking your advice, done letting you have any say in my life." Richard's voice was steel. "You're upset. When you've calmed down, you'll realize you're overreacting." "I'm not overreacting. I'm finally seeing clearly. You've been controlling my life for years. Telling me what to do, who to marry, how to run my business. And I let you because it was easier than fighting. But I'm done. Starting now." "Damon..." "I mean it. Don't call me. Don't come to my apartment. Don't contact me at work. We're done." I walked out of the
I woke up to an empty bed and silence.For a second I thought Damon had left, then I smelled coffee.I got up, followed the scent to the kitchen.He was standing at the stove making eggs, still in pajama pants and a t-shirt. The table was set for two with fresh flowers in a vase."Morning," he said
I woke up Sunday morning still feeling raw from the gala.Damon was already awake, on his phone."What are you doing?" I asked."Drafting a statement for the company's PR team. Clarifying that you're my wife and that any pregnancy claims are unverified pending paternity testing.""Your mother's goi
I came home at seven that night.The apartment was dark except for the living room where Damon sat on the couch, head in his hands. He looked up when I walked in."Eve, thank god. I've been calling..."I walked past him toward the bedroom."Wait, please. Can we just talk for five minutes?"I kept w
The call came Tuesday morning."We're coming by this afternoon," Catherine Sterling said without preamble. "Your father and I need to see how Sophia is settling in."Damon's face went tight. "Mom, I don't think that's a good idea right now.""Nonsense, the poor girl is living with strangers and inj







