Chapter 15: The Phone

I stayed rooted to the spot, my breath shallow, my body betraying me with a tremor I couldn’t control.

Gabriel didn’t break eye contact. “You’re hiding something.”

My lips parted, but no words came out.

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. The air between us tightened with every measured movement, like he was shrinking the room on purpose. “What is it, Eve? What could possibly be so important you’d have to dig around behind my back?”

I swallowed, forcing my voice steady. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m… trying to protect us.”

His laugh was soft, humourless. “Protect us? Or protect yourself?”

The words landed like a slap. My chest tightened. “You think I’m lying to you?”

“I think,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “that you’re afraid of what I might find out.”

I felt my nails bite into my palm. He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember. But something in him… It’s waking up.

“Emily is dangerous,” I said, my voice firmer now. “And you don’t see it because you’re too—” I cut myself off before saying blind.

“Too what?” he challenged, stepping even closer until I could feel the faint warmth of his breath.

“Too trusting,” I said, forcing the word out.

His eyes searched mine, like he was trying to peel me apart layer by layer. “Or maybe you’re just jealous.”

The word made my pulse spike. “Jealous? Of her?”

“You tell me,” he said, tilting his head. “You’ve been acting like a woman with something to lose.”

Something in my chest snapped. “Because I do have something to lose, Gabriel! You. Us. Everything we built before she—”

The silence after Gabriel’s question stretched like a wire ready to snap.

“Who were you talking to?” he’d asked, his voice low, sharp.

The phone still glowed on the table with Sebastian’s name across the screen. My mouth opened, then closed again. Nothing came out.

For a moment, his eyes burned into me—suspicion, anger, something I couldn’t quite name. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

The sound of his footsteps fading down the hall left me rooted in place.

I sat there long after he’d shut the bedroom door, staring at the phone. My chest ached. I wanted to run after him, explain, scream that I wasn’t betraying him—that Sebastian was only a weapon against Emily, not a replacement for him. But my legs wouldn’t move.

The hours bled together after that. I lay awake in the darkness, my body beside Gabriel’s but the gulf between us wider than it had ever been. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Emily’s smirk, her hashtags, and her poisonous captions. Every time I glanced at him, I saw his profile lit by the faint glow of moonlight, his breathing steady, his face unreadable.

By morning, my eyes burnt from lack of sleep. My body felt hollow and brittle, like the smallest push would shatter me.

The doorbell rang.

Once. Sharp. Jarring in the quiet house.

I froze in the kitchen, halfway through pouring coffee I didn’t even want. My hand tightened around the mug until it nearly cracked.

Gabriel appeared in the doorway, shirt half-buttoned, hair rumpled, his face drawn with exhaustion. He glanced toward the sound, then at me.

The bell rang again. Longer this time. More insistent.

A cold certainty slid through me before I even reached the hall.

Emily.

“Don’t answer it,” I whispered, the words scraping out of me before I could stop them.

His eyes narrowed. “We can’t just ignore whoever—”

“We can,” I snapped, my hand catching his wrist. “If you open that door, she wins.”

His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might listen. But then his arm shifted, breaking free of my grip, and I knew—Gabriel Flores Grayson was not a man who ran from confrontation.

“Stay here,” he ordered, striding toward the door.

The lock clicked. The door swung open.

And there she was. Emily.

Her perfume hit first, sweet and suffocating, curling into the house like smoke. She wore pale silk and a smile sharp enough to cut glass.

Beside her stood a man in a grey suit, briefcase in hand. A lawyer.

“Gabriel,” Emily said warmly, as if she belonged here, as if she hadn’t nearly destroyed everything. “You look well. Recovering nicely, I hope?”

His expression didn’t change. “What do you want, Emily?”

The lawyer stepped forward smoothly, extending a hand Gabriel didn’t take. “Robert Hensley. I represent Ms Emily Dalton.”

My stomach dropped.

Emily’s gaze flicked to me, her smile widening, her voice dripping honey. “We thought it was time for a proper conversation. About my place in Gabriel’s life.”

Gabriel’s face darkened. “Your place?”

Her eyes glittered as she laid the words down like a bomb.

“Our child, Gabriel. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”

The world tilted. My heart stuttered.

Gabriel went completely still. His eyes turned toward me, heavy, clouded with disbelief and something worse. Doubt.

And just like that, Emily had dragged the lie we’d buried back into the light.

The silence was unbearable.

For a second, Gabriel didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. His hand tightened on the edge of the doorframe, white-knuckled, like the wood was the only thing keeping him upright.

Emily tilted her head, letting the words sink, her expression softening into that practiced mask of vulnerability. “I didn’t want to do this here, like this. But you’ve left me no choice. You have responsibilities, Gabriel. To me. To our baby.”

Every syllable was a dagger.

I forced air into my lungs. My voice tore out of me. “She’s lying.”

Emily’s gaze whipped to me, the sweetness gone in an instant. Her lips curved, sharp, mocking. “Of course you’d say that, Eve. You’ve always been so threatened by me.”

The lawyer cleared his throat, flipping open a sleek leather folder. “Ms. Dalton has medical records confirming the pregnancy, as well as documentation linking the paternity to Mr. Grayson. We’re prepared to—”

“Enough.” Gabriel’s voice cracked the air, low but lethal. His eyes, though, weren’t on Emily. They were on me.

On me.

“Is this true?” he asked, each word drawn tight as wire.

My stomach dropped. He wasn’t asking Emily. He was asking me.

“Gabriel,” I whispered, “you know what she’s doing. You can see it. She’s trying to—”

“I asked if it’s true,” he cut in, his voice harder this time.

The humiliation scorched me. The betrayal of the question itself. I wanted to scream, to shake him until he remembered who I was, who we were. Instead, I straightened, forcing my voice steady.

“She showed you those same papers before the crash. Don’t you remember?”

His face flickered, like a curtain shifting in a storm. For a heartbeat, something—recognition, maybe—flashed in his eyes. Then it was gone.

Emily stepped closer, clutching her stomach dramatically, her silk blouse pulling tight. “Stress isn’t good for the baby. If you want, Gabriel, I can have the doctor call you directly. He’ll confirm everything.”

“Stop it!” I snapped, stepping forward. “There is no baby!”

Her laugh rang out, cold and triumphant. “And how would you know, Eve? Were you there every night your husband was?”

The lawyer raised a hand, smoothing the tension with a false politeness. “Perhaps we should sit down to discuss matters reasonably. We’re only here to ensure Mr. Grayson takes appropriate responsibility.”

Gabriel’s hand dragged through his hair, his eyes clouded, distant. The sight of it—the uncertainty breaking him down—set my chest on fire.

“She’s manipulating you,” I said, my voice raw, almost pleading. “Don’t you see? This is what she wants—doubt. Division. She wants to destroy us.”

Emily’s smile widened, perfect and poisonous. “Destroy you? Eve, darling, you’re doing that yourself. Look at him. He doesn’t even know who to believe.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenched. He turned sharply toward the lawyer. “Leave the paperwork. We’ll review it.”

My heart dropped.

Emily’s eyes glittered. “Of course,” she murmured, her hand brushing the doorframe as she stepped back. “Take your time, Gabriel. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes met mine, lingering, savouring, before she added softly—so only I could hear—“Round two.”

The lawyer set the folder down on the entryway table. Gabriel shut the door with a force that rattled the frame.

Silence pressed in, suffocating.

The folder sat between us like a live grenade.

When Gabriel finally looked at me, his eyes weren’t just suspicious anymore. They were something worse.

Haunted.

“Eve,” he said, his voice low. “If she’s lying… prove it.”

The words sliced me open. Because proving it meant war. Real war. And I wasn’t sure if I could win.