Chapter 9
516words
I laughed bitterly. "Nolan literally just left. If he was so concerned, why didn't he stick around to see Owen himself?"
Emma's smile faltered—clearly news to her. She quickly recovered. "Well, he's terribly busy. Must have been a spontaneous visit."
"Emma, cut to the chase," I said, exhaustion in every syllable. "What the hell do you really want?"
Emma's smile disappeared, her eyes turning predatory. "I'm here to remind you of our deal. Once the kid recovers, you vanish from this city and from Nolan's life. Permanently."
"I signed the damn agreement. I'll honor it," I said icily. "I don't need your reminders."
"But you seem to be cozying up to Nolan again," Emma said with a smug smile. "Don't forget, he's mine now. You lost him for good."
"I never tried to 'get' him back," I shot back. "My only concern is my son's health."
"Is that so?" Emma's lip curled. "Better keep it that way."
"Why are you so terrified of the truth?" I challenged, staring her down. "If Nolan really loves you, what difference would it make if he knew Owen was his son?"
Emma's face contorted with rage. "Because he'll never forgive a woman who hid his own child from him! Once he realizes you've lied to him for five years, he'll despise you forever!"
Her words hit like a physical blow. Was she right? Would Nolan hate me for keeping this secret?
"Besides," Emma continued, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper, "are you sure Nolan would even believe you? He might think you're making it all up, trying to extort money with a fake paternity claim."
That possibility sent ice through my veins. Given Nolan's hostility toward me, he might indeed think I was lying.
"Emma, I don't know what twisted obsession you have with Nolan," I said, bone-tired. "But I promise you, once Owen recovers, we'll disappear. Not because of your threats, but because Nolan and I are done."
Emma nodded with satisfaction. "Smart girl. Keep your word, or you'll regret it."
She turned and strutted away, her heels clicking against the tile like a countdown to disaster.
I slumped against the wall, more drained than I'd ever felt. Emma's threats, Nolan's coldness, Owen's fragile state—it was all crushing me.
But I had to keep it together for Owen. He needed me now more than ever. Everything else—including the truth about his father—would have to wait.
In the days that followed, Owen slowly turned a corner. A week later, he was moved out of the ICU back to a regular room. Though still frail, his eyes had regained some of their sparkle.
"Mommy, I had a dream about Daddy," Owen announced out of the blue one afternoon.
My pulse quickened. "Really? What happened in your dream?"
"He said he loves me and will always protect me," Owen said innocently. "He looked just like Mr. Nolan."
I froze, completely blindsided. Had Owen somehow sensed the truth on some subconscious level?
