Chapter 115 #115
Chapter 115
~Shailyn's POV~
I grabbed the phone, still breathing hard, body tense and unsatisfied.
Hannah.
Of course.
I pressed answer, trying to steady my voice. "Hey."
"Shailyn! Good news. I got the cameras."
"That's... that's great."
"You okay? You sound weird."
"I'm fine. Just tired."
"Anyway, I can set them up tomorrow. You'll have full access through an app on your phone. Perfect view of the study, bedroom, living room, everything."
"Perfect."
"Are you sure you're okay? You sound really off."
"Hannah, I'm fine. Can I call you back?"
She paused. "Oh. Oh. Were you—"
"Goodbye, Hannah."
"Have fun!"
I hung up before she could say anything else.
"God," I muttered, dropping the phone onto the bed.
My body was still humming, still unsatisfied, still wanting.
But the moment was gone.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to will away the frustration.
It didn't work. I just slept off.
\---
The next day dragged.
Dante left early to check on the guests who are investors for the company. I spent the morning pretending to organize party details while actually doing nothing useful.
Around noon, I heard the front door open.
Dwayne's voice carried down the hallway.
My entire body reacted.
Heat rushed through me instantly. Every thought from last night came flooding back. The fantasy. The way I'd imagined him. The things I'd pictured him doing.
I pressed my thighs together and took a breath.
"Get it together," I whispered.
I walked out to the living room.
He stood by the entrance, pulling off his jacket, hair slightly messy from the wind.
"Hey," he said, glancing up. "Didn't know you were home."
"Yeah. Just... working on party stuff."
"How's that going?"
"Fine. Good. It's going."
He smiled slightly. "That confident, huh?"
"Shut up."
He walked closer, tossing his jacket over the chair. "You look tired."
"I didn't sleep well."
"Bad dreams?"
"Something like that."
He studied me for a moment, eyes searching. "You sure you're okay?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Because you seem tense."
"I'm not tense."
"Shailyn."
"I'm fine, Dwayne. Really."
He didn't look convinced but didn't push. "Alright. Well, if you need anything—"
"I know. Thank you for always."
He nodded and headed toward his room.
I stood there watching him go, my mind absolutely refusing to behave.
The way he moved. The way his shirt fit. The memory of his hands.
I turned around quickly and went back to the living room.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered.
But my body disagreed.
\---
That evening, Dante came home in a surprisingly good mood.
"How was your day?" he asked, kissing my cheek.
"Fine. Yours?"
"Productive. Very productive." He sat down beside me. "I spoke with Gramps. He's excited about the party."
"That's great."
"He wants to give a speech at midnight. Something about legacy and the future."
"Of course he does."
Dante laughed. "Come on. It'll be good for the company."
"I'm sure it will."
He reached over and took my hand. "You've been distant lately."
"I've been tired."
"I know. But I miss you."
I looked at him. Really looked at him.
The concern on his face looked real. But I knew better now.
"I'm right here, I'm not leaving you" I said. Lies, all lies.
"We are hooked together forever my love, and with our kids.”
He stood. "I'm going to change. Want to order dinner?"
"Actually, I was thinking of going for a walk."
He frowned. "It's cold out."
"I know. I just need some air."
"You want me to come with you?"
I hesitated. Then nodded. "Sure."
His face brightened. "Give me five minutes."
\---
We walked along the edge of the property, the cold biting at my skin.
Dante had his arm around me, pulling me close.
"This is nice," he said. "We should do this more often."
"Yeah."
"I feel like we've been distant. Since the hospital."
"A lot happened."
"I know. And I'm sorry if I haven't been... present. Work has been insane."
"It always is."
"True." He laughed softly. "But I'm trying, Shailyn. I really am."
"I know you are." I hugged him for a dramatic effect.
We walked in silence for a moment.
The trees swayed in the wind. The house loomed behind us, all lit up and imposing.
"Can I ask you something?" I said quietly.
"Of course."
"Do you love me?"
He stopped walking. "What kind of question is that?"
"A serious one."
"Shailyn, of course I love you. You're my wife. The mother of my child."
"That's not what I asked."
He turned to face me fully. "Where is this coming from?"
"I just need to know."
"Yes. I love you. Of course I do."
"Why?"
"Why?" He looked confused. "Because you're brilliant. Beautiful. Strong. Everything I could want."
"Everything you could want. Not everything you need."
"What's the difference?"
"There's a big difference, Dante."
He reached for my hands. "Shailyn, talk to me. What's going on?"
I looked at him. At his perfect face. His perfect concern.
All of it a mask.
"I'm just thinking about things," I said carefully.
"What things?"
"The future. Us. Everything."
"And?"
I took a breath. This was the moment.
Push him. Test him. See how he reacts.
"If I asked you for a divorce one day," I said slowly. "Would you give it to me? Especially after maybe, just maybe I get my memory back."
His hands tightened on mine.
The concern vanished instantly.
Something cold and fear flickered across his face. Something dangerous.
"What?" he said quietly.
"It's just a question."
"No. It's not just a question." His voice dropped. "Why would you even ask that?"
"Because I want to know."
"Are you unhappy?"
"I'm asking hypothetically."
"Hypothetically." He stepped closer. "You want to know if I'd let you leave me."
"I want to know if you'd respect my choice."
"Your choice." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Shailyn, you're carrying my child. We're married. We're building a life together."
"That's not an answer."
"The answer is no."
My heart stopped.
"No?"
"No. I wouldn't give you a divorce." His grip tightened further. "Because we belong together. Because I love you. Because this is what's best for both of us."
"You don't get to decide what's best for me."
"Don't I?" He tilted his head. "I'm your husband. The father of your child. I think I have some say."
"Dante—"
"Why are you asking this?" His eyes narrowed. "Is this about Dwayne?"
"What? No."
"Because I've seen the way he looks at you, you're almost always together. But that is about to change."
"You're being paranoid."
"Am I?" He pulled me closer. "Or am I just paying attention?"
"Let go of me."
"Not until you tell me the truth."
"I am telling you the truth. It was a hypothetical question."
"Then why does it feel like more than that?"
We stood there, locked together, the cold wind whipping around us.
His eyes searched mine.
And I saw it.
The control. The possessiveness. The refusal to let go.
"Answer me, Shailyn," he said quietly. "Are you thinking about leaving me?”