Page 105 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

I almost died just now. Because I was angry? Because I let my emotions control me?

There is a boy in the hospital who needs me.

A son who needs me. My son.

Vincent.

I grip the wheel, inhaling sharply.

My head drops forward, hands tightening until my knuckles turn white.

Nothing else matters right now. Not my company. Not my reputation. Not even my relationship with Layla.

Vincent comes first.

I exhale slowly, forcing the chaos in my mind into submission.

The anger, the betrayal, the resentment, I shove it down, lock it away.

He is all that matters.

I turn the Porsche back onto the road, my movements calmer now, more controlled.

I need to be there.

And this time, I drive like a man who understands exactly what’s at stake.

***

When I walk back into the hospital, I expect Layla to look relieved that I’ve returned.

Instead, when she spots me from across the waiting room, her expression is unreadable, like she’s waiting for something inevitable to happen.

Like she’s bracing for impact.

I don’t speak to her. I can’t.

Not yet.

Not until I figure out what the hell I’m supposed to say to her.

We exist in this strange limbo, standing near each other, but not truly acknowledging one another.

The tension between us is suffocating, thick with everything left unsaid.

She’s gripping a cup of coffee in both hands, but I can tell she isn’t drinking it.

She hasn’t looked at me since I stepped in.

And I haven’t looked at her either.

Because I don’t know what I’ll find when I do.

The thought of yelling at her, demanding to know why she took my son from me, demanding to know how she could do this, crosses my mind a thousand times.

But then I remind myself, Vincent comes first.

So, I do nothing.

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