The Night Before I Became His Wife, the Night He Became a Father Chapter 02

The Night Before I Became His Wife, the Night He Became a Father Chapter 02

He turned back in shock, about to speak, when the phone in his pocket rang.

“Hello? Why is my chef taking so long? If I eat too late, I’m going to get fat.”

A soft, coy voice came through the phone.

Damian chuckled. “I know, princess.”

“Stop worrying about getting fat all the time. Your health matters more. You’re due for your period next Tuesday, and if your cramps come back, I’ll have to worry about you again.”

The voice on the other end suddenly dropped lower.

Damian gave me an unreadable look, then answered without hesitation, “Fine. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

After hanging up, he kept his back to me.

“Take my assistant’s car to the hotel tomorrow morning.”

“Nina’s breathing is acting up again. I don’t trust anyone else to drive her.”

My fingers suddenly clenched. The memory of icy seawater pouring into my nose and mouth rushed back, and my entire body began to tremble.

Three years ago, Nina had gotten drunk after breaking up with her ex and insisted on dragging Damian and me out on a boat with her.

None of us expected a huge wave to hit and capsize the boat.

At the critical moment, she kicked me down beneath the water, used me as leverage to reach the surface, and grabbed onto Damian, who had been knocked unconscious by the wave.

After I was resuscitated, I could clearly feel Damian treating me with a new coldness.

It took me a long time to find out why. Nina had told him a different version of what happened.

According to her, I had spotted another boat passing by, abandoned both of them, and escaped on my own, while she had chosen to stay with Damian and face death beside him.

I had wanted to argue, but Nina kept shooting me warning looks.

In one weak moment, I let it go. But judging by the child’s age, the two of them had probably started hooking up right around then.

Because seawater had damaged her lungs, Nina supposedly developed lasting breathing problems. After that, she always seemed to have an attack whenever an important date came around, whether it was New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day, my birthday, or Christmas Eve.

Every time, all it took was one phone call, and Damian would leave.

How absurd.

I let out a self-mocking laugh. “Then you might as well give her the bride’s place too.”

Damian frowned in irritation and forced down his anger.

“Stop saying crazy things like that. I told you, she’s afraid of marriage.”

“We’re already legally married. Your name is on the invitations, and your photo is on the welcome sign. Are you threatening me with this now? Do you think that’s funny?”

He picked up the insulated food container and turned to leave.

I snatched up the scissors and hurled them at him. They struck with a sharp metallic clang.

Hysterical, I repeated, “I said I’m not marrying you!”

Tears poured down my face, and I cried so hard I could barely breathe.

Damian’s eyes darkened in an instant. He walked over and grabbed my chin.

“Ivy Quinn, you don’t get to decide whether this wedding happens.”

His grip tightened, and he threw me to the floor.

Then he slammed the door and left.

The room went dark, then bright again. I sat there all night, hollow and unmoving, until I had no tears left to cry.

I only vaguely felt people come in to change my clothes and do my makeup.

Then they stuffed me into a car like a discarded rag doll.

My phone suddenly buzzed. It was Nina.

Nina: [Ivy, have you left yet? My boyfriend just picked me up.]

Nina: [My son can be your ring bearer later. Make sure you give him a generous cash gift.]

Nina: [Oh, sorry, I forgot money is tight for you two. It’s fine. We’re practically sisters, so don’t worry about it.]

She had the act down perfectly.

Right after that, she posted three nine-photo Instagram carousels back-to-back.

Every photo showed her sitting in the passenger seat, wearing a custom designer bridesmaid dress that looked more bridal than the bride’s gown. Her makeup was brighter and more striking than mine.

Beside her, a familiar, handsome man’s hand rested on her thigh.

On his ring finger was the wedding band that matched mine.

A month ago, when Damian came to pick me up, I had noticed a damp patch on the edge of the passenger seat.

It had smelled faintly of sex.

Beside it, I found two used tissues stuck together.

Damian had smiled and said he had spilled food.

But now, looking at the seat Nina was sitting in and remembering the look of satisfaction on his face that day, it was painfully obvious what he had eaten.

My stomach churned. I clutched the car window and dry-heaved.

I gasped for air, my whole body shaking.

Hatred surged through me, and with trembling fingers, I posted a comment.

[Enjoy picking through my leftovers? You can have him. No need to thank me. Consider it recycling.]