Chương 7
“He was trying to erase it?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
“He was trying to control when and how it became public.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t understand.”
Dominic folded his hands.
“Grant built his reputation around being the man who always had the answer.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He could not allow the world to believe he abandoned his wife while she was pregnant.”
I stared at him.
“He cared about looking cruel.”
“Yes.”
Not hearing an argument made it worse.
Because the truth did not need one.
“He left me because he thought I could not give him a child.”
“I know.”
“And then he found out I was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“So he needed to rewrite the story.”
“Yes.”
I laughed quietly.
There was no humor in it.
“He always hated losing control.”
Dominic watched me.
“You still defend him.”
I looked at him sharply.
“I’m not defending him.”
“Maybe not.”
He paused.
“But you keep trying to find the version of him that would not do this.”
The words hurt because they were accurate.
I looked down at my hands.
“Is that wrong?”
“No.”
His answer surprised me.
“It is human.”
For some reason, that was the thing that almost broke me.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Understanding.
I had spent months being told I was too emotional.
Too sensitive.
Too difficult.
Dominic never treated my feelings like a weakness.
He treated them like evidence that something mattered.
My phone buzzed.
Both of us looked at it.
This time, it was not an unknown number.
It was Grant.
I stared at his name.
Dominic did not tell me not to answer.
He did not tell me what to say.
He only said, “Whatever you choose, choose because you want to.”
I picked up.
“Claire.”
Grant’s voice sounded different.
No confidence.
No performance.
Just exhaustion.
“What happened?” I asked.
A pause.
“You know.”
“I know documents were sent to your wedding.”
Another pause.
“So you saw them.”
“Yes.”
He exhaled.
“I did not send those.”
I looked at Dominic.
He remained still.
“I didn’t ask if you sent them.”
Grant went quiet.
That answer bothered him.
“Who told you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is using you to destroy me, you need to know.”
I almost laughed.
The irony was impossible to ignore.
“You’re worried about someone using me?”
“Claire.”
“No.”
My voice stayed calm.
That surprised me.
“You don’t get to become concerned about my safety after spending six months deciding I was a problem.”
“That is not fair.”
“Maybe.”
I looked at Lily.
“But it is true.”
Grant was silent.
Then his voice lowered.
“Is she mine?”
The question changed the air.
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The question he should have asked before leaving.
Before the divorce.
Before telling strangers I could not give him a family.
“I don’t know.”
The answer surprised him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you left before we finished finding out.”
“Claire.”
“I had appointments.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask.”
The silence afterward was painful.
Because there was truth on both sides.
Grant had been cruel.
But he had also been a person who made choices while believing his own version of events.
That did not excuse him.
It just made the damage more complicated.
“Can I see her?”
I looked at Dominic.
Then at Lily.
“No.”
The answer came before fear could interfere.
Grant’s voice cracked slightly.
“Claire.”
“No.”
“Please.”
The word was unfamiliar coming from him.
Grant Kingsley did not ask.
He negotiated.
He demanded.
He convinced.
But he did not beg.
“I need to know.”
“You needed to know six months ago.”
“I made a mistake.”
I swallowed.
There it was.
The apology I once begged for.
The one I imagined hearing a thousand times.
And now that it came, it did not fix anything.
“You did.”
“I can fix this.”
“No.”
The word was quiet.
But final.
“You can’t fix what happened.”
“Then what do I do?”
I looked at my daughter.
“I don’t know.”
That was the hardest truth.
Not every wound had a solution.
Not every betrayal had a perfect conversation afterward.
Sometimes people reached the moment where regret arrived too late.
“I want a paternity test,” Grant said.
The request should have hurt.
Instead, it felt expected.
“Of course you do.”
“Claire.”
“I understand.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the window.
“You need proof before you accept something.”
The same way he needed proof before he believed I was enough.
“Fine.”
Another pause.
Then he said, “I’m sorry.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
For one second, I wanted to hear more.
A real apology.
An explanation.
Something that would bring back the years before everything fell apart.
But the person on the other end was still Grant.
Still someone who had waited until consequences arrived before admitting there was a problem.
“I hope you mean that,” I said.
“I do.”
“I hope you do.”
I ended the call.
The apartment stayed quiet.
Dominic looked at me.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
Then after a moment, I shook my head.
“No.”
He accepted that.
No pressure.
No demand.
Just acceptance.
A few minutes later, another notification appeared on my phone.
This one was from a news alert.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the headline.
Grant Kingsley’s wedding postponed after shocking allegations emerge.
Below it was a blurry photograph.
A crowd outside the church.
Reporters surrounding the entrance.
And in the center of the image stood Sienna Vale.
Alone.
Holding the documents that had destroyed her wedding day.
Sienna was standing in front of the church like someone who had forgotten where she was supposed to go next.
The cameras around her kept flashing.
Reporters called her name from different directions.
People who had arrived to celebrate her marriage were now watching her like she was part of a scandal they had paid to witness.
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I stared at the photograph longer than I should have.
There was something wrong with the image.
