He Called Me A Housewife While I Gave Him Everything Chapter 02

He Called Me A Housewife While I Gave Him Everything Chapter 02

Damian probably thought I wouldn’t remember.

But the lipstick smeared on his shirt yesterday, that exact shade of red, was the same one Chloe Sinclair always wore.

He came home just before dawn the next morning. Shadows bruised the skin under his eyes. Cigarette smoke clung to his clothes. But in his hands, he carried a box from the bakery, cinnamon rolls, my favorite.

“Nora. I’ve got a pitch meeting later. Eat while they’re warm.”

He opened the box with excruciating care, lifted one out, blew on it until it was cool, and held it to my lips.

I opened my mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. Mechanical.

He watched me eat, and a tired, satisfied smile broke across his face. “Wait for me.”

He leaned down to kiss me. I turned my head before I could stop myself.

He froze mid-motion. The light in his eyes guttered out.

In the end, he just brushed his hand over my hair and walked away fast.

I went to the hospital.

My dad looked better, more alert. He was doing rehab with a physical therapist, Harold Vance cracking jokes between exercises. When he saw me, his face split into a grin. He grabbed my hand and asked why Damian hadn’t come.

I picked up an apple and the paring knife. The blade cut through the skin with that soft, quiet sound, that hiss of steel against peel.

“Dad, I want a divorce.”

The therapy ball dropped from his hand and rolled across the floor.

He stared at me. His clouded eyes swam with shock. “What happened? Is he hurting you?”

I shook my head. For a moment, I couldn’t find the words.

Everyone said Damian loved me to the bone. He drained his fortune to save my life. He begged and bargained with anyone who’d listen. For five years, he cosseted me until I was practically useless.

But I was the only one who knew how tight the wire inside me was strung, every single day. I was always asking myself, was what Damian just said true, or was it another lie? I was exhausted from living that way. I was done.

I got my dad settled and stepped out of his room.

When I turned the corner, I saw a familiar figure walking into the obstetrics wing with a woman beside him. Ethan Shaw. Damian’s best friend.

And the woman was Chloe Sinclair.

My feet followed before my mind caught up.

I stopped outside the door. Ethan’s voice came through, easy and familiar. “Chloe, don’t stress. We flew in the best specialist money can buy. This round’s gonna take, I can feel it.”

Chloe let out a breath. She sounded worn down, frayed at the edges. “Ten tries in five years. I just hope this one sticks.”

My father’s surgery money. All of it.

My father’s surgery money.

Ethan glanced toward the doorway and saw me. His face went white.

He lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “Nora, it’s not what you think. It’s not.”

I ignored him. I reached over and pulled the thick medical file from his hands. Ethan looked like he was about to cry. He made a grab for it, then stopped himself.

I flipped through the pages.

The date of Chloe’s first IVF transfer was printed there, clear and undeniable.

Five years ago today.

The same day I received my third critical-condition notice in the ICU.

So that was how it worked. Damian was outside my operating room, weeping, begging the doctors to save me. And at the very same time, he was methodically arranging for another woman to carry his child.

The sheer insanity of it hit me like a wave, so heavy I thought it might drag me under.

I closed the file, handed it back to Ethan, and walked away.

He ran after me and blocked my path.

His face was flushed, the words pouring out of him. “Nora, listen to me. After what happened with that professor, the damage to your uterus, the doctors told you you’d never carry a child.”

“Damian was terrified you’d blame yourself. And his family, God, the pressure they would’ve put on you. So he told everyone it was him. He took the hit. For you.”

Ethan’s voice cracked. He raised one hand like he was swearing under oath. “But his mother’s dying wish was to hold a grandchild. He didn’t have a choice, Nora. I swear to you, Damian and Chloe never crossed any physical line. There was nothing between them. He has always been faithful to you. Always.”

Faithful.

The word churned in my stomach.

I didn’t want that kind of faithfulness. Not one bit.

I shoved past Ethan and went home.