Margaret climbed the stairs to wake Selina but found her already awake, sitting by the window, lost in thought. Apparently, Selina had woken up early that morning—not that Margaret had slept much either.
Selina didn't notice her sister as she sat by the open window. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew. She took a deep breath, watching as the town stirred to life around her. The streets were still quiet, but soon they would be filled with people who had nothing better to do than watch and whisper.
Gossip spread quickly in this town.
She had forgotten how small this place was—how eyes followed you everywhere, how people's lives felt like open books waiting to be picked apart.
She wondered how fast her news would spread.
What would people say?
How would her father react to the rumors?
Margaret sat next to Selina, making her presence known. For a while, she simply watched her sister's face.
Selina had always been beautiful.
She had been a beautiful little girl—so much so that people used to say she looked like an angel while she slept.
Until she opened her eyes, that is.
Margaret knew that Selina's beauty, combined with her volatile temperament, would bring trouble one day.
Selina didn't acknowledge her presence yet. She kept looking outside.
Margaret knew she had to be careful. Her next words had to be calm and measured, as if last night hadn't happened. She hadn't brought up adopting the baby again. Not yet.
Instead, she asked, "Are you going to tell him?"
Selina didn't answer.
Margaret gently ran her fingers through Selina's hair, tilting her head slightly as she spoke, her voice quiet, as if afraid of startling her. "You haven't told him, have you?"
Selina forced herself to look away from the window. "It doesn't matter."
Margaret exhaled sharply. "Of course it matters, Selina. Maybe if he knew—"
"If he knew, he would've been here, right?" Selina cut in, her voice colder than she intended. "But he doesn't. And he never will."
Margaret hesitated, watching her carefully.
Selina stood, needing to move, needing to escape.
Escape Margaret.
Escape the weight of the conversation.
Escape her life.
"I'm going out for a walk."
Selina understood her sister—she was only trying to find a way out for her. But she didn't know what had happened.
She didn't know how he had left her behind with nothing but a measly letter.
She knew she needed help, but that help could not come from him.
One thought outweighed all the rest.
Nicki could never know.
She got lost in her memories, reliving the day her heart broke.
The company breakroom had been crowded, filled with the hum of voices, the clinking of coffee cups, the ever-present murmur of office gossip.
Selina had been stirring sugar into her tea, half-listening to the conversation happening at the table behind her.
"Did you hear? Mr. Sinclair is getting married."
Selina's hand stilled.
A second voice chimed in—"It was about time. His father has been pushing for the engagement for years."
A third voice scoffed. "Really? I thought he left the country so he wouldn't have to get married."
Selina listened carefully, hoping they were right.
But then, the first woman unknowingly crushed her hopes.
"No way... I heard the boss gave him an ultimatum this time. Either he marries Miss Prescott, or he's cut off. They must be getting married abroad. Might be a destination wedding."
"So his dad must be serious this time," someone murmured.
Another voice, amused, added, "Can you imagine? He's been running away and avoiding it for years, just to come back and do exactly what his family wanted anyway?"
Her tea turned bitter on her tongue.
Her hands started to shake.
"What brought this on now, anyway? I mean, I know the boss wanted them together for years, but it was never to the point of threatening to cut his son off. What's the rush?"
Selina had left the breakroom before they could say anything else—before the world could crash down around her.
She hadn't needed to hear more.
Nicki had left without telling her.
He had promised her this wouldn't happen. That he could handle his father.
She had trusted him. How could she not?
He had her heart. She had never loved anyone before him.
He knew that.
Yet he still left.
And now, he was marrying someone else.
He hadn't just left her behind.
Hadn't just broken his promises.
He had broken her.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Selina walked through town, lost in thought, barely noticing the familiar streets. This place had always felt too small, too judgmental—and now, with the secret she was keeping, it felt even worse.
She could feel the eyes on her.
It wouldn't be long before she started to show, and that would be followed by people asking questions.
She turned a corner, heading toward the main square, and—froze.
Three black cars rolled down the street, polished and gleaming under the midday sun. She knew who they belonged to. Everyone in this small town did.
Even before she saw him, she knew who was in the front car. And why he had come back after all these years.
Damon.
She had been just a little girl the first time she saw him.
One look was all it had taken. One look, and she had fallen in love with his eyes at first sight—that perfect shade of deep green, like the heart of the forest, had made her childish heart race. A fairytale prince come to life.
But that had been a long time ago.
Now, no matter how broken her heart was, it beat for someone else.
Now, as he stepped out of the car, combing his messy hair with his fingers, she barely felt anything.
He was still handsome—he always had been.
But Selina had long since stopped believing in fairytales.
She had loved. She had lost. And she had bigger problems than Damon Blackwell and his perfect green eyes.
The said eyes turned toward her, and for a second, they locked.
She looked away before he could.
And as she left, one thought settled in her mind.
He must be back to marry Margaret.