A Love Derailed Chapter 2

Later that night, the door to my room creaked open.

I looked up. Theodore stood in the doorway. His suit was immaculate, but his hair was a mess, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. For a fleeting moment, our gazes met before I quickly looked away.

The maternity nurse, Mrs. Gable, was gently rocking our daughter in her arms. Seeing Theodore, she smiled warmly. "Congratulations, Mr. Thorne. You have a beautiful baby girl."

Theodore’s eyes flickered to the baby, but his expression remained flat, unreadable. "Is she healthy?"

Mrs. Gable, assuming he’d want to hold his child, moved to pass the bundle to him. But Theodore made no move to take her, his arms remaining rigidly at his sides. An awkward silence hung in the air before Mrs. Gable drew back.

"All her vitals are perfect," she said, recovering smoothly. "She was a little early, but her weight is good. No need for the incubator."

Theodore nodded once. "Thank you for your hard work." He then addressed her directly. "Could you take the baby out for a moment? I need to speak with Evelyn alone."

As she left, he turned to the assistant hovering by the door, his tone all business. "Contact PR. Prepare a press release announcing the birth of the Thorne Industries heiress. And execute the donation plan we discussed—five hundred million, split among the charitable foundations on my list. Also, that new foundation proposal I drafted? Start the paperwork tomorrow."

Theodore was always methodical, always detached. He approached every situation with a clinical precision, devoid of emotion. Even faced with the birth of his own child, there wasn't a flicker of excitement or joy. Just a calm, orderly execution of a plan.

I once thought I was different. I thought, perhaps, that with me, he allowed himself to feel. Just a little.

After all, I loved him so much.

But in the end, I had vastly overestimated my own importance.

The assistant closed the door behind him, leaving us alone. The vast suite was silent, the scent of white roses on the table doing nothing to cut through the suffocating tension.

"Evelyn," Theodore said, stepping closer. His face was a mask of apology. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here. I was on the plane all day. I didn't see the calls or texts until we landed."

"Theodore," I said, my voice calmer than I could have imagined. "Let's get a divorce."

"What?" He froze, genuine shock flickering in his eyes. "Evelyn, are you joking?" The hospital lights cast harsh shadows on his face, accentuating his exhaustion.

"I know I let you down," he said, his voice earnest, logical, like a negotiator trying to close a deal. "But I swear it wasn't intentional. I had the timeline perfectly calculated. I was going to wrap up that project proposal and then clear my schedule completely to be here with you. I never imagined the baby would come early… I never thought you'd… that you almost died on the operating table. I’m sorry. It was my oversight."

If I were anyone else…

If I hadn't spent years waiting for him…

If I hadn't seen that interview…

Maybe, just maybe, I would have believed him.

But I was done lying to myself.

I cut him off, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. "Theodore. That’s not the reason."

It was never just about that.