After My Husband Betrayed Me, I Married My Father's Best Friend

"Move!"

Damien's voice cut through the chaos.

The crowd parted instantly.

I could barely see him through my tears.

My vision was fading.

The pain in my stomach felt like someone was twisting a knife inside me.

"Damien..."

I wasn't even sure if I said his name out loud.

Then everything went dark.

________________

The first thing I heard was the steady beep of a heart monitor.

The second thing I heard was someone arguing.

"Mr. Blackwood, you need to calm down."

"Calm down?" a man's voice snapped. "If something happens to her because your staff couldn't get her into surgery fast enough, you'll have a lawsuit bigger than this hospital."

I knew that voice.

Damien.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

The room was dim.

White walls. Medical equipment. The smell of antiseptic.

A hospital room.

My hand immediately flew to my stomach.

Panic hit me.

The baby.

A nurse noticed I was awake.

"Mrs. Parker?"

My heart nearly stopped.

"My baby."

The nurse quickly smiled.

"Your baby is okay."

I burst into tears.

Actual sobs.

Relief crashed into me so hard I couldn't breathe.

The nurse gently squeezed my shoulder.

"You need to stay calm. You experienced severe stress and minor placental bleeding."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you were lucky."

Lucky.

The word sounded ridiculous.

Nothing about today felt lucky.

The door opened.

Damien walked in.

The moment he saw me awake, something changed in his face.

The tension disappeared.

Just a little.

"You're awake."

I nodded.

My throat hurt.

His dark suit jacket was gone.

His tie was missing.

His sleeves were rolled up.

For some reason, seeing him looking less than perfect made him seem more real.

More human.

The nurse quietly left.

Damien pulled a chair closer to the bed.

Neither of us spoke for several seconds.

Finally, I looked around.

"How long?"

"Twelve hours."

My eyes widened.

"Twelve?"

"You were unconscious most of the night."

I swallowed hard.

The memories came rushing back.

The hospital hallway.

Chloe. Ethan.

The push. The blood.

My stomach twisted again.

Not from pain.

From humiliation.

Damien must have noticed.

"Don't."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Don't think about them right now."

Easy for him to say.

My husband had another woman pregnant.

My best friend had been sleeping with him for two years.

And somehow I was supposed to stop thinking about it.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Damien didn't laugh.

Instead he asked quietly,

"Did you know?"

"No."

The answer came instantly.

Of course I didn't know.

If I had known, I would've left.

I wasn't stupid enough to stay in a marriage like that.

At least I hoped I wasn't.

Damien leaned back in his chair.

His jaw tightened.

He looked angry.

Not at me.

At them.

Somehow that made me feel worse.

"I look pathetic, don't I?"

His eyes immediately met mine.

"No."

"I do."

"Sophia."

"My husband got my best friend pregnant."

The words sounded even uglier out loud.

"And somehow everyone else knew before I did."

"No."

I frowned.

"No?"

"No one knew."

"What?"

Damien folded his arms.

"I didn't know."

I stared at him.

He held my gaze.

And for some reason, I believed him.

Damien Blackwood wasn't known for lying.

Actually, Damien Blackwood wasn't known for much talking at all.

At thirty-two, he'd built one of the largest investment firms in New York.

Most people found him intimidating.

I always found him strangely kind.

Especially because he had never asked for anything in return.

Not once.

The door suddenly opened.

My head snapped toward it.

For one stupid second, I thought it might be Ethan.

It wasn't.

A doctor entered.

He checked my chart.

Then looked at me seriously.

"Mrs. Parker, the baby is stable."

I released a breath.

"But."

My stomach dropped.

"But?"

"You need to avoid stress."

I almost laughed.

My entire life had exploded twelve hours ago.

"Any additional trauma could put the pregnancy at risk."

The doctor's expression softened.

"Your baby survived this time."

The words echoed inside my head.

The doctor left.

The room became quiet again.

I stared at the blanket.

Then at the ceiling.

Then back at the blanket.

Finally I reached for my phone.

Damien immediately noticed.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to call Ethan."

His expression hardened.

"No."

I frowned.

"No?"

"You just got out of surgery."

"I need answers."

"You already have answers."

That hurt because it was true.

Still, I grabbed my phone.

The battery was almost dead.

Several missed calls.

Messages.

Emails.

Most were from unknown numbers.

News reporters.

Friends.

People who had already heard rumors.

There was exactly one message from Ethan.

Hope you're okay.

That was it.

Not I'm sorry.

Hope you're okay.

I stared at the screen.

Then dialed his number.

Damien swore under his breath.

The call connected after three rings.

I closed my eyes.

"Ethan."

Silence.

Then a woman's voice answered.

Not Ethan.

Chloe.

"Hello?"

I froze.

The room suddenly felt colder.

"Chloe?"

A small pause.

"Oh."

The sound of her voice instantly made my skin crawl.

"Sophia."

My grip tightened around the phone.

"Why do you have Ethan's phone?"

More silence.

Then I heard something.

Laughter.

Male laughter.

Ethan's laughter.

Somewhere in the background.

Like he was having a great day.

Like yesterday hadn't happened.

Like I wasn't lying in a hospital bed.

"He left it here."

My stomach turned.

I suddenly understood.

Ethan wasn't with lawyers.

Or handling damage control.

Or worrying about me.

He was with her.

Again.

I hung up.

Immediately.

The room became silent.

I slowly lowered the phone.

Damien didn't ask what happened.

He already knew.

"You see now?"

I nodded.

Then the tears came.

Not loud.

Just quiet tears sliding down my face.

Because somehow hearing Chloe answer his phone hurt more than discovering the affair.

Yesterday could've been shock.

Confusion.

Today there were no excuses left.

My husband had chosen.

And it wasn't me.

Damien stood.

I wiped my face quickly.

Embarrassed.

But instead of leaving, he walked toward the window.

Giving me privacy.

Giving me dignity.

The simple gesture almost made me cry harder.

After several minutes, I finally spoke.

"Why are you here?"

Damien turned.

"What?"

"You've been here since yesterday."

He didn't answer immediately.

Then he shrugged.

"You needed someone."

Such a simple answer.

Yet Ethan hadn't done it.

My husband hadn't done it.

The father of my child hadn't done it.

But Damien had.

I looked down at my hands.

"You should go."

"No."

I blinked.

"No?"

For the first time, a faint smile appeared on his face.

"The doctor said stress is bad for the baby."

I almost smiled back.

Then his phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen.

His expression darkened instantly.

"What?"

I asked.

Damien hesitated.

A bad sign.

"What happened?"

He slowly handed me the phone.

A celebrity gossip website filled the screen.

At the top was a photo.

Ethan.

And Chloe.

Walking into a luxury hotel together.

Taken less than an hour ago.

The headline read:

NEW YORK CEO EXPECTING BABY WITH MYSTERY WOMAN.

My heart stopped.

Then Damien said the words that changed everything.

"Sophia."

I looked up.

His voice was calm.

Dangerously calm.

"You're going to need a lawyer. If he almost killed your baby, then you can almost kill him too. You know how it works—accidents happen."