บททั้งหมดของ The Wife He Chose Too Late: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Claire's POVThe rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of emails, meetings, and growing frustration. No matter how many times I replayed the conversation outside Damien's office, I kept arriving at the same conclusion.I wasn't imagining it.Tiffany knew exactly what she was doing, but the problem was that proving it was impossible. Every interaction was small enough to be dismissed, every comment was polite enough to sound harmless, and every action could be explained away as helpful and now Damien had defended her not because he was choosing her over me.I knew him well enough to understand that. The problem was almost worse. He genuinely believed she was innocent which meant Tiffany could continue doing whatever she wanted while looking completely blameless.By five o'clock, I was exhausted, not physically but emotionally. The constant effort of pretending everything was normal was becoming draining.I gathered my things and shut down my computer, and as I slipped my purse over my

Claire's POVI didn't realize the ultrasound photograph was missing until the following morning. At first I thought I had simply overlooked it.The previous few days had been stressful enough that forgetting where I placed something seemed entirely possible.I was standing in the dressing room of the penthouse searching for a pair of earrings I had misplaced, when my hand brushed against the inside pocket of my purse and I immediately froze.The envelope wasn't there for a second, I wasn't concerned I simply frowned and checked another compartment but nothing.A strange feeling settled in my stomach as I slowly emptied the contents of my purse onto the dressing table. My wallet, lipstick, and keys everything except the photograph.I stared at the empty purse. "No." The word escaped before I could stop it. I checked again and then a third time by the fourth search, my movements had become frantic.The photograph wasn't there. I stood perfectly still for several seconds trying to think

Claire's POVThe entire drive to the Laurent estate felt longer than it actually was.I sat beside Damien in the back of the car watching the city lights slide past the window while trying very hard not to think about everything that had happened during the past week. Unfortunately, ignoring my problems had never been one of my strengths.The missing ultrasound photograph still bothered me, Tiffany still worked twenty feet away from my office and the contract still expired in less than two weeks and somehow, despite all of that, I had still failed to tell Damien he was going to be a father.Beside me, Damien was answering emails on his phone I looked at him briefly before looking away again. The glow from the screen illuminated the sharp angles of his face, making him appear distant and unreadable.Typical, sometimes I wondered whether Damien even realized how intimidating he could be when he was focused on work.A few moments later, he lowered the phone. "You've been quiet."I laughe

Claire's POV"Does Damien know he's going to be a father?"The question sat between us.I suddenly wanted out of that room. My fingers pressed against the edge of the ultrasound photograph hard enough to crease the paper.Tiffany sat comfortably in her chair as though she hadn't just reached into the most private part of my life and dragged it into the open.The worst part was that she already knew the answer because she wouldn't have asked otherwise.I should have walked out the moment she returned the photograph but instead, I stood there staring at her, trying to understand what she wanted because this conversation wasn't about curiosity and it sure as hell wasn't about concern.Tiffany Morgan didn't care whether I was pregnant. She cared what my pregnancy meant."That's none of your business."A faint smile touched her lips. "I'll take that as a no."My patience finally snapped. "Why do you care?" The question came out sharper than I intended.Tiffany didn't appear offended if any

Claire's POVI didn't sleep.The apartment remained dark and silent long after midnight, but every time I closed my eyes, I found myself back in the foyer watching Damien walk out the door with Tiffany beside him and the words I never managed to say were hanging between us yet again. At some point during the night, I stopped being angry because anger required energy. What remained was something quieter, something heavier.I lay awake staring at the ceiling and forced myself to face a truth I had spent weeks avoiding. Every time I worked up the courage to tell Damien about the baby, something seemed to get in the way. Sometimes it was a crisis at work. Sometimes it was a meeting that couldn't wait. Sometimes Tiffany appeared at exactly the wrong moment. And when none of those things happened, I found another excuse to stay quiet. The pattern had become impossible to ignore. The more I thought about it, the more foolish I felt. I had spent four years convincing myself that if I was pa