All Chapters of Too Late, Mr. Cross: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Damian’s POV “My ex-wife asked me on a date,” I said it once in the privacy of my car and immediately regretted giving the sentence a voice. Elena would have enjoyed that. She had chosen the restaurant herself, which meant I had spent the drive resisting the urge to check its ownership, financial health, reservation history, and whether Cross had ever done business with anyone attached to it. Tonight, I knew only the address and the time. Elena was already inside when I arrived. “You are late,” she said as I reached the table. I checked my watch before answering, although I already knew the exact time. “By forty seconds, which hardly qualifies as late.” “I wondered whether you were standing outside giving yourself instructions.” “I did that in the car.” I took the chair across from her. “This feels stranger than I expected.” “You have been here for twelve seconds.” “I meant the two of us sitting here like this.” “That took you thirteen seconds to make the evening complic

Elena’s POV “Tell me exactly what the nurse said.” Damian’s voice came through the car speaker while my driver took the hospital route security had already cleared. “She said they need to assess me because the contractions are becoming regular.” “How far apart are the contractions now?” “Six minutes. The last two were closer.” “I am on my way.” “Do not drive like an idiot.” “I have a driver, and I am nowhere near the steering wheel.” “Good, because I was prepared to argue about that.” Another contraction began before I could say more. I stopped talking and counted through it the way the nurse had instructed. The pain began low and spread across my abdomen with enough force to make conversation impossible. “Elena?” Damian’s voice came through the speaker. “I am still here, and the contraction has passed.” “How bad was that one compared with the others?” “Bad enough that I am ending this call so I can concentrate.” “I will meet you there. Call the driver and go to the hos

Elena’s POV“Your father has checked the car seat four times.” I looked down at the baby while Damian tested the buckle again.“I heard that.”“You were supposed to.”“The hospital gave us a safety sheet.”“They did not ask you to conduct an engineering review.”“I am finished.”“You said that two checks ago.”Damian stepped away from the car seat and raised both hands. “I am officially interfering with nothing.”“That will last six minutes.”“It may last seven.”Bringing our baby home after three weeks in the hospital should have felt simpler than leaving it.Instead, I stood beside the car with my discharge papers tucked beneath my arm and watched Damian inspect a car seat that had already been approved by a nurse. Three weeks of monitors, feeding plans, weight checks, and conversations with doctors had trained both of us to distrust good news until somebody repeated it.This morning, they had repeated it several times. Our baby was ready to go home.I had cried in the hospital bath

DAMIAN“Claire called while you were upstairs with the baby.” Elena placed her phone on the kitchen counter. “The prosecutor’s office finally gave her an update on all three cases.”I pulled out the chair beside her. “What happened?”“Michael entered a guilty plea under the cooperation agreement. He admitted to the fabricated corporate records, the payments, the surveillance, and his involvement in what happened on the road. The information he gave them about Victor’s network will be considered when he’s sentenced, but he’s still going to prison.”“When is sentencing?”“In a few weeks. Claire offered to arrange for me to attend, and I told her I wouldn’t be there.”“You don’t have to be.”“I know.” She picked up her water. “Michael also asked through his lawyer whether he could send me a letter before sentencing. I said no.”I had no reason to ask what he wanted to put in it. Michael had been given more opportunities to speak than he deserved, and Elena had spent enough time listening

DAMIAN“You have his feeding schedule, Dr. Bennett’s number, the vitamin dosage, and the emergency contact sheet.” Elena stood beside Lucas’s bassinet with her handbag hanging from one shoulder.“I had all of those things before you printed them for me.”“I know, but the feeding times changed yesterday.”“By fifteen minutes.”“He’s still premature, Damian.”“I know exactly how early my son was born.”Elena reached into her bag again, although she had already checked it twice since coming downstairs.Her first proper meeting with her fashion team started in forty minutes. She had tried to turn it into a video call until I reminded her that she had spent half of yesterday complaining about how badly she wanted to see the new samples in person.“You should leave before you’re late,” I said.“I have time.”“You have twelve minutes before the drive becomes unpleasant, and you hate arriving after everyone else.”She looked at Lucas, who was asleep and completely unaware that his mother was