5. The Woman Who Left Him

Claire's POV

The moment I saw the name on Damien's phone screen, something inside me went completely still.

Tiffany Morgan.

For a second, I wondered if I had imagined it. The restaurant seemed to fade around me, the soft glow of candlelight and the murmur of nearby conversations becoming distant and indistinct as my attention fixed on those two words.

Tiffany Morgan.

I had never met her not once and yet I knew far more about her than I ever wanted to.

Over the past four years, her name had surfaced often enough that avoiding it had become impossible. It appeared in old newspaper articles whenever journalists revisited the story of Damien being abandoned on his wedding day. It appeared in whispered conversations that conveniently ended whenever I entered a room. It appeared in awkward silences whenever someone accidentally brought up the past in Damien's presence.

Most of all, it appeared in my own thoughts because no matter how hard I tried not to compare myself to her, I always did. Tiffany Morgan was the woman Damien had chosen first.

I had simply been the woman who happened to be standing nearby when everything fell apart.

Across the table, Damien remained perfectly still as the phone continued vibrating in his hand.

I had seen Damien navigate crises that would have destroyed most people. I had watched him negotiate hostile takeovers, handle financial disasters, and dismantle opponents twice his age without showing the slightest sign of nerves.

Nothing unsettled him, nothing but yet now he was staring at his phone as though he had forgotten where he was. The realization settled heavily in my chest, perhaps the stories had been true after all, perhaps some people never really left, perhaps time didn't matter and perhaps four years didn't matter.

The phone stopped ringing and silence settled between us then, almost immediately, it started again. I looked away because the sight was suddenly unbearable. I had no right to feel jealous and no right to feel threatened, after all, Damien and I were not the kind of couple who made promises about forever.

We had signed a contract and we had agreed to an arrangement. Everything had been temporary from the beginning and the fact that I loved him didn't change that and the fact that I was carrying his child didn't change it either.

Eventually, Damien answered. "Hello."

His voice was calm and controlled, but I knew him too well not to notice the slight tension beneath the surface. I lowered my eyes toward the untouched dessert sitting between us and for several moments, I heard nothing except the faint sound of a woman's voice coming through the speaker.

I couldn't make out the words only the tone and then I looked up. Damien's expression had changed, the transformation was subtle enough that most people probably wouldn't have noticed but I did. Shock appeared first and then confusion followed.

His brows drew together slightly and a second later, concern replaced it, real concern, the kind that tightened his jaw and sharpened his focus. I hated how much that bothered me. The conversation lasted less than a minute and when it ended, Damien lowered the phone slowly, for several seconds, he stared at the dark screen and then he stood and immediately, a sense of dread settled over me.

Something was wrong, very wrong. "Damien?" My voice sounded quieter than I intended.

His attention shifted back to me and for a brief moment, I had the strange impression that he had forgotten I was sitting across from him and the thought hurt far more than it should have. He looked toward the restaurant entrance before looking back at me.

Something conflicted moved across his features. I had known Damien for years. I had worked beside him long before I became his wife. I had seen him exhausted, angry, frustrated, and occasionally amused but I had never seen him uncertain until now.

"I have to go." The words landed with surprising force not because they were cruel and not because he intended them to hurt but because of how quickly he said them.

There was no hesitation, no discussion and no consideration. Wherever Tiffany was, he had already decided he needed to be there.

I swallowed hard. "Is everything alright?"

For the first time since answering the call, he hesitated. The pause lasted only a moment. "Tiffany's back."

The words confirmed every fear I had spent four years trying to ignore and a strange numbness spread through me.

Tiffany's back.

Four years of wondering, four years of comparisons and four years of hearing her name attached to Damien's and now she was back not as a memory, not as a story and not as a ghost from the past. As a real woman, a woman who had returned.

Damien looked as though he wanted to explain or at least, I thought he did. Something passed through his expression and disappeared before I could identify it but whatever he intended to say, he never said it. "I will call you later."

The promise sounded automatic like something spoken out of habit rather than conviction. I forced a smile and it probably looked terrible. "Okay."

For a moment, neither of us moved but then Damien picked up his jacket and left just like that. One moment he was sitting across from me and the next he was gone.

I stared at the empty chair. The divorce documents remained untouched on the table. The dessert remained untouched and inside my purse, hidden between my wallet and the tiny box containing a pair of white knitted booties, rested the ultrasound photograph I had planned to show him.

My hand drifted toward the bag. The photograph felt impossibly heavy now. Tonight had been supposed to change everything but instead, the moment had passed and the words remained unspoken.

The baby remained a secret and Tiffany Morgan had returned.

A waiter approached cautiously. "Will there be anything else this evening, Mrs. Laurent?"

The title nearly broke my heart but I managed a polite smile anyway. "No, thank you."

The waiter nodded and quietly retreated, for several minutes, I remained seated. Around me, life continued exactly as it always did. People laughed, wine glasses clinked and conversations flowed effortlessly from one table to the next. Nobody noticed the woman sitting alone in the middle of a crowded restaurant wondering whether she had just watched her marriage end.

Eventually, I paid the bill and left.

The moment I stepped outside, cold rain struck my face and I stopped beneath the awning and looked toward the street. The weather had changed while I was inside. Rain fell steadily from dark clouds overhead, turning the city into a blur of reflections and headlights and for a moment, I considered calling a car but instead, I started walking.

The rain soaked through my coat almost immediately but I barely noticed. My thoughts were elsewhere with Damien, Tiffany and the tiny heartbeat hidden inside my purse.

By the time I reached the penthouse, I was drenched. The elevator carried me silently to the top floor and when the doors opened, darkness greeted me.

Damien wasn't home of course he wasn't. I stepped inside anyway but the apartment felt different, larger somehow and colder.

The silence seemed to stretch endlessly through the empty rooms and for the first time since discovering I was pregnant, fear settled heavily in my chest not fear for myself and not even fear of the divorce but fear that I had waited too long.

Third POV

Across the city, a black luxury car pulled to a stop outside one of Manhattan's most exclusive hotels. A chauffeur hurried forward and opened the rear door. Tiffany Morgan stepped onto the sidewalk with the confidence of someone who had never doubted she belonged exactly where she was.

She was beautiful there was no point pretending otherwise. Years had done nothing to diminish the striking features that had once made her a favorite of photographers and magazine editors.

Rain fell around her as she adjusted the sleeve of her cream-colored coat and looked toward the entrance. She looked perfectly composed and perfectly calm as though disappearing for four years and returning without warning was the most natural thing in the world.

The chauffeur reached for her luggage but Tiffany barely noticed because her attention remained fixed on the driveway.

A black SUV turned the corner and a slow smile curved her lips. The vehicle hadn't even stopped yet but she already knew who had arrived and moments later, Damien stepped out looking tall, controlled and imposing, exactly as she remembered.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke as rain continued falling between them. Four years of history hung in the air and then Tiffany smiled. The expression was warm, confident and certain as though she had never doubted he would come as though she had always known he would.

She met his eyes and said quietly, "I came back for you."