“We’re… trying. Working on things.” I looked anywhere but at her glowing face.
Something shifted in my peripheral vision. I had to tell her. Had to know if those accusations were real. The burden was killing me.
“Sable…”
“Yes?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. She’s so content. So at peace. Do I really have the right to shatter that?
‘I just… I wanted to say congratulations. To both of you.”
“Thank you,” Her smile was genuinely warm.
I tried again. “Sable, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you ever think about… the past? About your mother?”
A shadow crossed her face. “Sometimes. Why?”
“I just…”
Before she could answer, footsteps approached. Caelan emerged from the building, and his entire demeanor changed when he spotted me.
“Sabi?” He reached us and his eyes landed on me, brow furrowing slightly. “Darrell?”
“Caelan.” I nodded. “Congratulations.”
Instinctively, he moved to pull Sable closer to his side, wariness flickering in his eyes. “Thank you. What brings you to the hospital?”
“Accompanying my wife for an appointment. I kept my answer brief.
“Did you get the reports?” Sable asked, looking up at Caelan with concern.
“Got them. Everything’s perfect. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We should head home. What would you like for dinner? I’ll cook for you.”
“I love everything you make!” Sable wrapped her arms around his waist with a playful smile, then turned to me. “We should get going.”
I nodded, watching them walk away. Caelan’s arm around her shoulders, their heads bent together in intimate conversation. Her laughter drifted back to me as they reached their car.
My phone buzzed. Camila texting that she was done.
I lit my cigarette and took a long drag, nicotine flooding my system.
400
Sable’s POV
After we got home, Caelan had insisted on cooking dinner himself. Tonight’s dinner had been perfectly balanced-nutritious enough for the baby, delicious enough to satisfy my increasingly demanding taste buds.
“You’re spoiling me,” I protested, rubbing my rounded belly as Caelan set another plate in front of me. “I’m going to be enormous.”
“Good. I like you soft and round.” He sat across from me at our kitchen table, watching with satisfaction as I devoured the perfectly balanced meal he’d prepared.
I threw a dinner roll at him. “Are you calling me fat?”
“I’m saying even if you become a little pig, I’ll still love you.” He caught the roll and buttered it for me.
I smacked his arm playfully. “What’s that supposed to mean! You think I’m getting fat, don’t you? You just admitted it!”
Caelan looked up at the ceiling in despair, then threw his hands up in surrender. “Baby, what exactly do you want me to say? No answer is right with you. This is one of those impossible questions! I’m doomed… God, I hope our daughter doesn’t turn out like you! If both my little sweethearts gang up on me like this, I’ll be completely helpless!”
I put on my best fake angry expression. “Hmph, sounds like you regret marrying me.”
“How could I ever regret it?” Caelan immediately wrapped his arms around me, swaying gently as he held me close. “Even if you kicked me out, I’d crawl back and beg you not to abandon me!”
We stayed tangled together for a while, lost in our own little world, until his phone rang. He released me and walked away to answer the call. A few minutes later, he returned.
“Border situation needs immediate attention,” he said reluctantly. “I need to go now.”
My face fell slightly.
“Don’t look at me like that. His thumb traced my lower lip. I’ll try to make it quick.”
“Go.” I made shooing motions.
“Call me if you need anything.” He leaned down to kiss my forehead, then my belly. “Behave, little one. Let Mama rest.”
After he left, I settled in for a quiet evening. Bath first, then some reading before bed. I’d bought every pregnancy book I could find, determined to be prepared for every stage.
The warm water felt incredible on my lower back, which had been aching more lately. I ran my hands over my bump, marveling at how firm it had become.
“Hey there, baby girl,” I whispered. “Daddy had to go to work, but he’ll be back soon. He always comes back to us.”
I’d started talking to her regularly, reading somewhere that babies could hear voices in the womb. Caelan thought it was adorable, often joining my one-sided conversations with elaborate stories about what her nursery would look like.
After my bath, I changed into comfortable pajamas and settled into bed with my current book: “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” Chapter twelve: “The Fourth Month.”
Drowsiness was setting in when my phone rang. Unknown number.
I almost didn’t answer, but something made me pick up.
“Hello?”
“Sable, it’s… it’s me. Darrell.”
Darrell’s POV
After Camila and I got back to the hotel, she fell asleep right away, but I just couldn’t get to sleep. I stood in the doorway watching her peaceful form for a moment before quietly closing the bedroom door behind me.
The hotel suite’s study felt suffocating. I loosened my tie and sank into the leather chair.
My phone lay on the mahogany desk. That email-Lucian’s final poison-sat in my inbox, waiting.
I scrolled to Sable’s contact information. My thumb hovered over the call button.
Doesn’t she deserve to know the man she married, the father of her child, murdered Isabella Crawford in cold blood?
I picked up the phone.
No more hesitation. No more excuses. She has a right to know.
My finger pressed the call button before I could change my mind.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
On the fourth ring, her voice came through, slightly muzzy.
“Hello?”
“Sable, it’s…” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s me, Darrell.”
A pause. When she spoke again, her tone had shifted-polite but cautious.
“Darrell? This is quite late… is something wrong?”
“I…” The words stuck in my throat like broken glass. “I’m sorry for calling so late. I just… I needed to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
Direct. No nonsense. That was Sable-always cutting straight to the heart of things.
“Sable, I need to ask you something.” I gripped the phone tighter. “About the past. About your mother.”
“My mother?” Her voice sharpened immediately. “Darrell, why are you asking about her again? What’s this about?”
‘Do you… do you remember everything clearly? About how she died?”
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