In the hospital, Damian stared at his phone, at the message that remained unanswered.
The unease in his heart intensified with each passing moment.
It wasn't as if I hadn't argued about his affairs before.
But I had never disappeared like this.
He knew perfectly well that Amber was, to him, merely a vessel for childbearing.
But the novelty hadn't worn off yet; Amber still held some value for him.
Once the child was born, Amber too would age.
That would be the time for her to leave the Blackwood household.
He had known countless women and could easily see through Amber's occasional little schemes.
He just tacitly chose not to call her out on them.
He relished this sensation, relished having two women vie for his affection, consumed by jealousy.
Relished being adored.
He knew I was the rightful Mrs. Blackwood, no matter how much Amber carried on.
And I wouldn't leave.