Chapter 148 Chapter 148

Chapter 148 Chapter 148

Drake’s POV

I felt something shift violently inside me.

I hope she doesn’t survive.

The cruelty of it hit harder than I expected.

Margaret ended the call and looked up, startled to see me standing there.

“You’re up early,” she said lightly.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“No one important,” she replied dismissively. “Just hospital gossip.”

“Chloe is in labor,” I said flatly.

Margaret’s smile faltered.

“She’s eight months,” she said. “Premature. It happens.”

“And you hope she dies?” I asked.

Her expression hardened.

“Don’t start,” she snapped. “That woman has destroyed our lives.”

Something twisted painfully in my chest.

Destroyed our lives.

The phrase echoed against something fragile in my mind.

A hospital corridor.

Her tears.

Her hand over her stomach.

My name on her lips.

The sensation passed too quickly to grasp.

“I’m going out,” I said abruptly.

Margaret frowned.

“Where?”

“For air.”

She didn’t believe me.

But she didn’t stop me either. That night, I drove alone to the hospital.

I didn’t announce myself. I didn’t ask for access. I simply walked in quietly and followed the sound. It wasn’t hard to find her. Her cries echoed faintly down the corridor.

Raw.

Broken.

Desperate.

I stopped outside the room.

Through the slightly open door, I saw her.

Chloe was curled slightly on the bed, her body trembling with each wave of pain. Sweat soaked her hairline. Tears streamed unchecked down her temples. Her hands gripped the sheets as if they were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.

“I can’t,” she sobbed hoarsely. “I can’t do this alone.”

The words sliced through me.

Alone.

The doctor murmured something about dilation, about complications. Mia stood near the bed, her face pale with worry. Rica hovered close, whispering prayers under her breath.

I stayed in the shadows.

Watching.

Her pain was not theatrical.

It was real.

Every contraction bent her body forward. Every cry felt like it tore from somewhere deep inside her soul.

“I don’t want to lose this baby,” she cried. “Please don’t take this from me too.”

Too.

The word caught in my mind.

Too.

The fragments began pushing harder now.

A holding room.

Her voice yelling.

“Your bastard son.”

My head pulsed painfully.

Mia’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.

“He loved you,” she whispered fiercely to Chloe. “Before the accident, he fought for you. Don’t forget that.”

Chloe let out a broken laugh.

“He chose not to remember me,” she choked. “He looked at me like I was nothing.”

The words hit like a blow.

Chose.

Not to remember.

Rica spoke next, her older voice trembling.

“He was calling your name that night,” she said. “Before the crash. He said he was going to fix everything.”

The crash.

The message.

My phone.

Her email.

The documents.

DNA results.

Jack.

The world tilted. I reached out blindly for the wall to steady myself. I slipped and fall, hitting my head on the wall. Pain surged through my entire body. I groaned in pain.

Images slammed into me all at once.

Her telling me she was pregnant at her apartment that night. Looking broken and destructed.

Me holding her face in my hands, promising protection. The red carpet. The arrest.

The email flashing across my screen moments before the accident. Margaret’s face when I confronted her. The rage. The betrayal. My knees buckled.

I slipped slightly, my shoulder hitting the wall with a dull thud. Pain shot through my skull.

And then—

Everything returned. Not fragments. Not pieces. Everything.

The love. The nights in her apartment. That hot sex. The fight to save the company together. The moment she showed me proof about Jack.

The look in her eyes when I told her she was mine. The accident. The fear.

Her name on my lips.

“Chloe,” I breathed.

The sound of her scream brought me fully back. I didn’t think. I ran. I pushed the door open and crossed the room in seconds.

She was crying uncontrollably, her body shaking. “Chloe,” I said again, my voice breaking.

She turned her head weakly toward me. For a split second, confusion crossed her face. Then anger. “You,” she whispered hoarsely.

I reached for her hands. “I remember,” I said desperately. “I remember everything.”

She tried to pull away. “Don’t,” she gasped. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Her nails dug into my wrist as another contraction tore through her.

“You left me,” she cried. “You looked at me like I was trash.”

“I didn’t know,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “My memory was gone.”

“You chose her,” she sobbed. “You chose Margaret.”

“I didn’t,” I insisted. “I was blind.”

She shook her head weakly.

“You put me in this condition,” she whispered. “Your family destroyed my sister.”

The guilt hit like a blade to the chest.

“I know,” I said, my voice shaking. “And I will make it right.”

“You’re too late,” she cried.

“I’m here now,” I said fiercely. Another scream ripped from her throat as the doctor barked instructions.

I tightened my grip on her hands.

“Look at me,” I pleaded. “Chloe, look at me.”

Her eyes locked onto mine.

And this time—

There was recognition in both of us.

“I love you,” I said, the words tumbling out raw and unfiltered. “I never stopped. I just couldn’t remember.”

Tears streamed down her face.

“You broke me,” she whispered.

“I know,” I said. “And I will spend the rest of my life fixing it if you let me.”

She tried to push me away again, but her strength was failing.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered suddenly as another wave of pain hit.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, pressing my forehead against hers. “I swear to you.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

The monitors beeped faster.

The doctor shouted something urgent.

But in that moment, none of it mattered.

Because I remembered.

And I was not losing her again.