Chương 2
Another silence.
Dominic looked away toward the window.
He gave me privacy even while standing close enough to protect me.
That was the difference between a man who loved control and a man who understood care.
Grant lowered his voice.
“Claire, if this is some kind of revenge—”
I almost laughed.
The idea was so absurd that for a second I forgot how much he had hurt me.
“You think I had a baby to hurt you?”
“I think you wanted me to find out this way.”
I looked at Lily.
Her eyes were still closed.
She had no idea that somewhere across the city, a man who once made me feel worthless had just learned she existed.
“No,” I said.
“I had her because she came into my life.”
Grant said nothing.
The rain continued against the glass.
A nurse walked past my door and smiled politely before continuing down the hallway.
Outside, New York kept moving.
Cars still honked.
People still hurried through the streets.
Someone was probably still taking pictures of Grant’s wedding.
The world had not stopped for my pain.
It had not stopped for my happiness either.
“Who is the father?” Grant asked.
This time, his voice was different.
The confidence was gone.
I looked at Dominic.
He did not move.
He did not demand an answer.
He waited.
And that made the choice easier.
“The man sitting beside me.”
Grant went completely silent.
“Who?”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“Dominic Moretti.”
The name changed everything.
Even over the phone, I heard it.
The sudden awareness.
The calculation.
The fear.
Everyone in Manhattan knew the Moretti name.
Not because Dominic chased attention.
Because people who had power rarely needed to announce it.
“Claire,” Grant said slowly.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
For the first time in years, I smiled.
Not because he was wrong.
Because he was finally seeing me as someone capable of making my own decisions.
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Grant did not answer immediately.
For a man who had built his entire life around controlling conversations, silence was the one thing he had never learned to use.
“Dominic Moretti,” he repeated.
The way he said the name made it sound less like a person and more like a threat he had just discovered.
“Yes,” I said.
“Since when?”
I looked at Lily’s tiny fingers wrapped around mine.
There were so many answers to that question, and none of them belonged to him.
“Since after you left.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one you’re getting.”
Grant’s breathing changed.
I could picture him standing outside the church, one hand holding his phone, expensive suit perfectly pressed, guests nearby pretending not to listen.
He hated being surprised more than he hated losing.
And today, he had been given both.
“Claire, you need to understand what this looks like.”
I almost smiled at the familiar sentence.
Grant always cared about appearances before consequences.
“What it looks like,” I said, “is that a woman you divorced had a child.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“No.”
I looked at Dominic.
“He means the newspapers.”
Dominic’s expression did not change, but his shoulders became slightly more rigid.
Grant noticed the silence.
“Is he there right now?”
“Yes.”
“Put him on.”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Grant went quiet again.
Six months ago, I would have explained.
I would have softened the rejection.
I would have worried about sounding cruel.
Now I simply let the silence exist.
“You’re protecting him.”
“I’m protecting my daughter.”
“You think I would hurt my own child?”
The question surprised me.
Not because I believed him.
Because there was a part of me that remembered the man he had been before everything collapsed.
The man who used to bring me coffee when I worked late.
The man who knew I hated crowded restaurants and always chose quiet tables.
The man who once spent an entire night sitting on a bathroom floor because I had a panic attack after my father’s funeral.
That man had existed.
That was what made losing him harder.
“I think you hurt people when you decide they no longer fit the life you want,” I said.
Grant did not respond.
A door opened somewhere near him.
A woman’s voice asked, “Grant?”
I recognized it immediately.
Sienna.
Even after everything, I knew her voice.
The woman who had once smiled at me while hiding messages between her and my husband.
The woman who told me I was lucky to have such a devoted husband.
“Who are you talking to?” she asked.
Grant covered the phone for a moment.
Not enough.
I heard the panic in his voice when he answered her.
“No one.”
That single word hurt more than I expected.
Not because I wanted him to claim me.
Because it reminded me that this was who he had always been.
When things became complicated, he erased the person causing the complication.
Even if that person had shared his bed for seven years.
Even if that person had once been his family.
I ended the call.
The screen went dark.
For a few seconds, I stared at my reflection in it.
I barely recognized the woman looking back.
Not because she had changed.
Because she finally looked like someone who belonged to herself.
Dominic walked closer.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
Then immediately shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
That was the first honest answer I had given all day.
He pulled the chair closer but did not touch me.
Dominic had always been careful with that.
He never assumed he was allowed into spaces where I had not invited him.
“I thought I would feel better,” I whispered.
“About what?”
“About him knowing.”
Dominic looked at Lily.
“You thought his reaction would fix something.”
I swallowed.
Maybe I had.
May you like
Maybe some small part of me had spent months imagining the moment Grant learned he was wrong.
Not because I wanted him back.
