Chapter 89 *
Scarlett’s POV
Twenty minutes passed.
The door opened again.
Damon walked in. He had his laptop under his arm.
He sat down in the chair. Opened the laptop. Started typing.
His face was completely neutral. Blank.
Like nothing had happened. Like we hadn't just had the most awkward conversation of our lives.
He pulled up a website. Started scrolling.
"Which universities are you interested in?" He didn't look at me. Just kept his eyes on the screen.
I blinked. "What?"
"Your college applications. Which schools do you want to apply to?"
Is he serious right now?
We just found out I was never pregnant. That our entire marriage was based on a misunderstanding.
And he's asking about college?
"I..." My brain couldn't keep up. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."
"You should think about it." He clicked on something. "Columbia has a good pre-med program. So does NYU."
I stared at him.
"Damon."
"Harvard's in Boston. Too far. But Stanford might work if you want to go west."
"Damon."
He finally looked up. "What?"
My mouth opened. Closed. I didn't know what to say.
The words came out before I could stop them.
"Did you just go find a divorce lawyer?"
His expression changed. Went from neutral to dark in an instant.
"What?"
"I just..." I stumbled over the words. "I thought maybe you needed to... I mean, we got married because of the baby."
His jaw clenched.
I kept going. Had to explain.
"You married me to give the baby a legitimate name. So it wouldn't be illegitimate. I understand that."
I twisted the hospital sheets between my fingers.
"The position of Mrs. Wolfe isn't for someone like me. Someone ordinary. Someone who doesn't come from your world."
My voice got quieter.
"So if you want a divorce, I understand. I really do."
I looked up at him. Tried to meet his eyes.
"We didn't sign a prenup. But I don't want anything. Not your money. Not your assets. Nothing."
I meant it. Every word.
"I'll sign whatever you need. Leave with just my clothes. I promise."
Damon's hand tightened on the mouse. His knuckles went white.
He didn't say anything. Just stared at the laptop screen.
The silence was killing me.
"I need you to know," I said quickly. "I didn't try to baby-trap you. I really thought I was pregnant. I would never lie about something like that."
Still nothing.
"I don't want your money. I'll leave. Go back to school. You'll never have to see me again."
I was babbling now. Couldn't stop.
"The baby was the only reason we got married. Without the baby, there's no reason to stay married. Right?"
My eyes started burning. I blinked hard.
I took a shaky breath. "I just want you to know I'm not trying to take advantage. I'll sign whatever papers you need. Make this as easy as possible."
Damon's hand moved. He slammed the mouse down on the desk.
The sound made me jump.
He turned to look at me. His eyes were dark. Dangerous.
"No."
The word came out hard. Final.
I blinked. "What?"
"No," he repeated. "We're not getting divorced."
"But..." I didn't understand. "The baby's not real. There's no reason to stay married."
"I don't care."
"But you only married me because—"
"I said no." His voice dropped lower. More dangerous. "We're. Not. Getting. Divorced."
"I don't understand." My voice came out small. Confused. "I'm not trying to trap you. I really don't want your money."
"I know." He ran his hand through his hair. "I know you're not lying. Even medical professionals misread the tests. It's not your fault."
Relief washed through me.
He believes me. He doesn't think I lied.
"So we can get divorced," I said. It came out almost cheerful.
The temperature in the room dropped.
Damon stood up. Slowly. Deliberately.
He took a step toward the bed.
Then another.
His eyes never left mine.
My heart started pounding.
"What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. Just kept walking.
I pressed myself back against the pillows. Nowhere to go.
He reached the bed. Didn't stop.
His hand came down. Palm flat on the mattress next to my hip.
He leaned forward. Brought his face close to mine.
I was trapped. Pinned between him and the headboard.
"Scarlett." His voice was low. Controlled. "You have a terrible memory."
I could feel the heat radiating off him. Could hear his breathing.
My own breath was coming faster.
"I don't." The words came out defensive. "My memory is fine."
"Then why don't you remember what I told you?" His other hand came up. His fingers were cool as they gripped my chin. Tilted my face up to meet his eyes.
My face was burning. I tried to look away.
His grip tightened. Not painful. Just firm.
"Look at me."
I did. Had no choice.
His eyes were intense. Focused completely on me.
"I said..." He paused. His body shifted closer. "I said that once you became mine, you'd be mine for life."
My heart was racing so fast I thought it might explode.
"I don't know what you—"
He kissed me.
Cut off whatever excuse I was about to make.
His mouth was demanding. Not asking permission.
My brain short-circuited.
Every thought scattered. Every protest died.
All I could feel was his lips on mine. His hand still gripping my chin. The heat of his body pressed close.