Chapter 1 - Five Weeks
Nathan kept his palm against Emma’s stomach long after the second kick had faded.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even seem to breathe.
Emma watched a man who had negotiated hostile acquisitions, faced furious shareholders, and once stood calmly in front of five hundred employees while announcing layoffs cry because his unborn child had moved beneath his hand.
For one dangerous second, she remembered loving him without reservation.
That frightened her.
Emma gently removed his hand.
Nathan straightened immediately.
“Sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
His eyes remained on her stomach.
“That’s my daughter?”
Emma’s expression changed.
Nathan caught it.
“A girl?”
She nodded.
He closed his eyes.
“A girl.”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Nathan laughed softly, but there was no amusement in it.
“I don’t know anything.”
Emma leaned back against the bookstore chair.
“Her anatomy scan was normal.”
He listened like each word mattered.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Heartbeat?”
“Strong.”
“Does she move a lot?”
“Mostly after midnight.”
Nathan gave a broken smile.
“Like you.”
“No.”
Emma looked at him.
“Like you.”
That almost destroyed him again.
He lowered his eyes.
“What are you naming her?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Okay.”
Emma studied him.
Months earlier, he would have offered five suggestions before she finished the sentence.
Now he waited.
That difference was small.
But she noticed it.
“So what happens now?” Nathan asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I can get a hotel nearby.”
Emma’s shoulders immediately tightened.
Nathan caught it.
“Or I can leave tonight.”
Silence.
“I’m not asking to stay with you,” he added. “I only thought… if anything happens.”
“I have Rachel.”
“I know.”
“And the hospital knows my history.”
“I understand.”
Nathan looked down at his hands.
“I’m not trying to insert myself where you don’t want me.”
Emma believed he meant it.
That was the problem.
Believing Nathan had become dangerous to her because hope had always made her stay longer than she should.
She stood.
“I’ll call you when labor starts.”
Nathan looked up sharply.
“You will?”
“You’re her father.”
He swallowed.
“Thank you.”
“That isn’t forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“It isn’t an invitation back into my life.”
“I know.”
“And if you come to the hospital, you come as her father. Not as my husband expecting something.”
Nathan stood too.
“I understand.”
Emma walked him to the bookstore door.
Outside, rain had become a thin silver mist.
Nathan stepped onto the sidewalk.
Then stopped.
“Emma?”
She waited.
“I brought something.”
Her body stiffened.
Nathan reached into his coat.
Not jewelry.
Not flowers.
An envelope.
He held it toward her.
“What is it?”
“Documents.”
Emma didn’t take them.
“What documents?”
Nathan looked uncomfortable.
“My revised estate plan.”
She stared at him.
“I don’t want your money.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you showing me this?”
“Because our daughter should be protected whether you ever come back to me or not.”
Emma remained silent.
Nathan continued.
“I placed part of my ownership in Whitmore Global into an irrevocable trust for her. You control the trust until she’s twenty-five.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed.
“You made me trustee?”
“Yes.”
“Without asking me?”
Nathan’s face changed instantly.
“You’re right.”
He pulled the envelope back.
“I shouldn’t have.”
Emma blinked.
Nathan looked genuinely embarrassed.
“I’m still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Making decisions first and assuming everyone will appreciate them later.”
He gave a humorless smile.
“I’ll have the documents changed. You can choose an independent trustee.”
Emma stared at him.
There it was.
The old Nathan would have explained why his decision was logical.
He would have defended the attorney, the tax strategy, the protection.
This Nathan recognized the mistake before she had to fight him over it.
“Keep me as trustee,” Emma said.
Nathan froze.
“But have a co-trustee.”
“Who?”
“Eleanor.”
He nodded.
“I’ll change it.”
“And no conditions connected to our marriage.”
“There aren’t any.”
“Good.”
Nathan hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
Emma felt the familiar tightening in her stomach.
“What?”
“I’m stepping away from day-to-day control of the foundation.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“Because I should have done it when I realized Olivia and I had stopped behaving like colleagues.”
Emma’s expression cooled.
“You fired her.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t erase what happened.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you restructuring your life as a performance for me.”
“I’m not.”
“How can I know that?”
Nathan’s answer came quietly.
“You can’t.”
That silenced her.
“You can only watch what I do when I don’t know whether you’ll ever take me back.”
Emma stood in the doorway.
Nathan stepped away.
“Good night, Emma.”
“Nathan?”
He turned.
She looked at the man who had once made her feel invisible.
Then at the rain running from his hair onto the collar of his coat.
“Good night.”
He smiled faintly.
And walked away.
Emma remained in the doorway until he disappeared around the corner.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She almost ignored it.
Something made her answer.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice came through the line.
Cool.
Familiar.
“Emma.”
Every muscle in her body went rigid.
Olivia Grant.
Emma said nothing.
Olivia continued.
“I think Nathan forgot to tell you one very important thing.”
Emma’s hand tightened around the phone.
“What?”
A pause.
Then Olivia said:
“He didn’t fire me because of you.”
May you like
Emma’s blood turned cold.
“He fired me because I found out what Whitmore Global has been hiding.”
