“No,” I said quietly. “I won’t apologize. And Beckett… you’ve truly disappointed me.”
Then I turned and walked away.
As I walked away,Beckett’s face darkened.For a brief moment,panic flashed through his eyes.He started to take a step toward me—but then Delaney clutched her stomach and groaned.
“Beckett,it hurts,”she gasped,then forced out a teary plea.“But Evelyn’s more important.Go after her.”
Beckett hesitated only a second before shaking his head.“No.Don’t worry about her.Right now,your condition is what matters most.”
He glanced down the hallway where I’d disappeared and I heard him mutter,“Evelyn’s just throwing a tantrum.She’s eight months pregnant,she’ll be terrified if I divorce her.I’ll talk to her later.”
Then he scooped Delaney up and carried her into the hospital room.
When I got home,I stood outside for a long moment,staring at the house that was supposed to be ours.Since Delaney returned to the country,Beckett had barely been home.I could no longer feel the warmth this house once held.
I walked to the wall,took down our wedding photo and tossed it straight into the trash.
I didn’t want to leave a single trace of myself here—not one reminder of what used to be.