Chapter Three — He’s my son

Evelyn POV

The little boy’s cheerful voice echoed through the silent living room.

“Daddy.”

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

I stared at Damian, waiting for him to laugh and explain that the child had simply made a mistake. But he remained silent.

Instead, he adjusted the little boy in his arms with practiced ease. The movement was so natural that my heart clenched painfully.

The woman beside him looked uncomfortable. She reached up and gently rubbed the boy’s back.

“Ethan, sweetheart,” she whispered. “You should not…”

“But he is Daddy,” the little boy insisted innocently.

My smile felt frozen on my face. Children don’t lie. Children only repeated what they knew.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m... sorry,” I said, forcing a small laugh. “I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

The woman looked at me with guilt in her eyes. Damian remained silent. That silence frightened me more than anything.

Finally, he spoke. “There is no misunderstanding.”

The room spun. “What?”

His expression remained unreadable. He looked tired, almost weary, but there was not an ounce of panic on his face. It was as though he had already prepared himself for this moment.

I stared from him to the woman and back again. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Damian turned toward the staff. “Are the rooms ready?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

Rooms? My confusion deepened. “What rooms?”

“The guest rooms on the second floor,” the butler answered politely.

Before I could ask another question, several staff members hurried outside. A few moments later they returned carrying large suitcases. One, Two, Three and more followed.

My chest tightened. Nobody packed seven suitcases for a short visit.

I looked at Damian. “They are staying here?”

He finally met my eyes. “Yes.”

The answer landed like a stone in my stomach. For a moment, I could not breathe. I had spent the entire afternoon imagining how to tell my husband we were having a baby. Meanwhile, he had been preparing another family to move into our home.

Home. The word suddenly felt foreign.

The little boy yawned and rested his head against Damian’s shoulder. Damian smiled softly before patting his back. It was a small gesture. Simple and Gentle. Yet I had spent three years wishing he would look at me with that same tenderness. Not once had he ever smiled at me like that. Not once.

The woman noticed me staring. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Her apology only made everything worse. Sorry for what? For standing beside my husband? For bringing his child into my house? Or for destroying the fragile hope I had carried all day?

I could not bring myself to ask.

Damian glanced toward the staircase. “You should both rest.”

The woman nodded. “Thank you.”

One of the maids reached for a suitcase. “I will show you to your room, Ma’am.”

They walked upstairs together. Damian followed closely behind them. He never for once looked back.

I remained standing in the middle of the living room. The silence around me became unbearable. The staff avoided looking directly at me. Their sympathetic glances hurt almost as much as Damian’s indifference.

I slowly sat down on the sofa. The house suddenly felt enormous. Cold and empty.

Anthea approached carefully. “Ma’am…”

I forced a smile before she could continue. “I am alright.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Would you like me to prepare tea?”

I shook my head. “No.”

She hesitated. “If you need anything…”

“I will call you.”

She nodded sadly before walking away.

The moment I was alone, my smile disappeared. My trembling hand moved instinctively toward my stomach. A few hours ago, I had worried that Damian might not be excited about becoming a father. Now another terrifying question entered my mind. Did it even matter anymore? Would he want this baby? Or had I already lost him long before today?

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. How foolish I had been. I had spent years believing patience could make someone love me. Believing kindness would eventually melt the walls around his heart. Believing one beautiful night meant something. Maybe I had only imagined everything. Maybe that night had meant nothing to him.

My eyes filled with tears. Upstairs, somewhere beyond those walls, Damian was settling another woman into our home. I wondered if he had ever looked at me with the same care. The answer came too quickly. No.

I could not stay here any longer. I needed answers.

I slowly climbed the staircase. Each step felt heavier than the last. The hallway was quiet. One of the guest room doors stood slightly open. Voices drifted into the corridor.

“You should not have brought us here,” the woman said softly.

“I had no choice.”

Damian. His voice remained calm. “You and Ethan will be safer here.”

“What about your wife?”

That question was met with silence. My heartbeat became painfully loud.

Then Damian answered. “I will handle Evelyn.”

Handle me. As though I were another business problem waiting to be solved.

My fingers tightened around the railing. The woman sighed. “I do not want to hurt her.”

“You will not.” I watched as he gently held her hands, pulling her in for a hug.

I stepped backward before they could notice me. My vision blurred with tears. Every word felt like another crack spreading through my heart.

I hurried back to our bedroom and quietly closed the door. Our bedroom. Even that no longer felt like mine.

I walked toward the bedside table and slowly opened the drawer. The little wooden box rested exactly where I had left it. Waiting for you, Daddy. The engraved words mocked me.

With shaking hands, I opened the lid. The tiny white baby shoes stared back at me. I picked one up. It barely filled my palm as fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to my unborn baby. “I am so sorry.”

I had dreamed of placing this box into Damian’s hands. I had imagined the surprise on his face, the joy I would have felt but now I could not even bear the thought of telling him. A father who had hidden an entire child from his wife. A husband who had brought another woman into our home without warning. Could I really trust him with my heart again?

A knock interrupted my thoughts. I quickly wiped my face. “Come in.”

The door opened. Damian walked inside alone. His tie hung loose around his neck. He looked exhausted.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, he closed the door.

“There is something you need to know.”

I stared at him. “So tell me.”

His eyes met mine. “It is about Ethan.”

I gripped the tiny baby shoe hidden behind my back. Every instinct told me I was not ready for whatever came next.

Then Damian took a slow breath and said “He is my son.”