Too Late, Mr. Sterling—I’m Marrying Your Rival Chapter 12

He was waiting on the bench outside the lighthouse at noon.

Rhys had offered to come. I’d said no. This was mine to finish.

Damien stood when he saw me. He’d shaved. Wore a plain sweater. He looked older than his thirty-four

years.

His eyes went straight to my left hand. To my mother’s ring.

Something passed across his face. Pain. And something like understanding.

“He found it,” Damien said quietly. “Of course he did.”

“What did you want to give me?”

He reached into his pocket and held out his palm.

The St. Christopher medal. Silver, worn smooth.

“I took it back from Sienna the day I fired her,” he said. “It never should’ve left my neck. It was the only thing

I owned that someone bought purely out of love.”

I looked at it for a long time.

“I don’t want it,” I said.

His hand trembled.

“I didn’t buy it for me, Damien. I bought it to keep you safe. That part’s still yours.” I folded his fingers over it gently. “Keep it. Just-be better to the next person who loves you.”

His eyes flooded.

“There won’t be a next person,” he said hoarsely. “I had you. That was it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m not saying it to make you feel bad.” He sat back down heavily, staring at the sea. “I just need you to know that I know. I know what I lost. I lost you a little at a time, every time I told you to handle it yourself. And by the time I noticed, there was nothing left to hold.”

I sat down beside him. Not close. But not cold,

“You didn’t lose me the night you hung up,” I said. “You lost me a thousand small times before that. That

night was just when I stopped waiting.”

He covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook.

“I’m going to set up a fund,” he said through his fingers. “In the baby’s name. For women in crisis. For hospitals like yours. I don’t-I don’t expect anything. I just need something good to come out of what I did.”

My throat tightened.

“Lily,” I said softly.

He looked up.

“If it had been a girl. I was going to call her Lily. After my mom’s middle name.” I swallowed. “Name it that.”

He nodded, tears running freely now. “Lily.”

We sat there for a while, watching the waves. For the first time in years, there was no anger between us. Just grief, finally shared.

Then I stood.

“Goodbye, Damien.”

He didn’t reach for me. That was how I knew he’d finally understood.

“Goodbye, Ava. Be happy.”

I walked back up the cliff path without looking back.

Rhys was waiting at the top. He’d been there the whole time, I realized. Far enough to give me space. Close enough to catch me if I fell.

I walked straight into his arms.

He didn’t ask, He just held me, one hand stroking my hair, while the wind whipped off the water.

“It’s done,” I whispered into his chest.

“I know,” He kissed my temple. “You were incredible.”

A week later, the news broke.

Sienna Cross was indicted for medical fraud and bribery. The nurse had testified. Her career was over.

The same day, the Lily Sterling Foundation announced a twenty-million-dollar grant to Harbor Point

Regional’s new maternity and trauma wing.

I cried reading the article in the break room.

Rhys found me there. Sat beside me. Took my hand.

“Marry me on the full moon,” he said. “Next month. Right here. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

I laughed through my tears. “Rhys, that’s four weeks. You can’t plan a wedding in four weeks.”

He grinned that crooked, dangerous grin.

“Watch me.”