Chapter 16
I scrutinized Gareth Lawson, unsure of how to respond. Once, he was my entire universe, and now, he stood before me as a mere stranger.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he continued, his voice quivering. “If I could turn back time, I’d change everything.” A part of me wished to remain angry, to let him shoulder the burden of my suffering. But anger was exhausting, and exhaustion had consumed me. I never expected him to apologize after all these years. It’s ironic how remorse often comes too late.
“I forgive you, Gareth,” I replied, my voice steady yet conclusive. “But this changes nothing. I don’t want you in my life anymore. Whatever guilt you bear, handle it elsewhere.
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I’m done.”
His face fell, but he nodded. “I understand.”
“Good,” I said, stepping back. “Now leave.”
He paused briefly before turning away, departing without another word.
As soon as Gareth disappeared, Wesley appeared by my side. “You okay?”
I nodded, leaning into him. “Let’s just move
on.”
The following morning, a bouquet of flowers arrived.
The card was simple: I’m truly sorry- Gareth.
I didn’t even flinch.
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Wesley walked in, immediately noticing the flowers. He raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed.
“Should I be jealous now?”
دب
I laughed, shaking my head. “Not a chance.”
Wesley stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because I love you, Iris. And I’m never letting you go.”
My chest tightened as I gazed up at him, smiling. “I love you, too.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine, and I kissed him back, feeling the warmth of his embrace dissolve the lingering shadows of my past.
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Later that evening, I was curled up on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels when a breaking news segment caught my attention.
“Gareth Lawson has officially filed for divorce from Delilah Starling, the anchor announced. “Sources confirm that Delilah’s modeling agency has also chosen not to renew her contract, effectively ending her career.”
I leaned forward, watching as the screen displayed images of Delilah leaving the courthouse, her head bowed, her expression defeated.
The report continued, detailing Delilah’s financial turmoil. She was living in a hotel, selling off her possessions just to get by.
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Wesley entered the room, catching the end of the report. Just then, one of my staff members walked in, handing me a folder.
I closed it without even glancing inside. “Let her stay in the gutter where she belongs. I don’t care about her anymore. All I want is for Quentin to end up in jail.”
Wesley nodded. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
The day of the trial finally arrived.
The courtroom was packed, the air thick with tension.
Quentin sat at the defendant’s table, his face pale but stubbornly defiant. The evidence was unassailable, the testimonies indisputable.
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When the judge entered, the room fell into silence.
The verdict rang out, echoing like a bell through the chamber.
“Guilty.”
Quentin‘ expression collapsed, his face shattering as reality dawned upon him.
He was sentenced to life in prison, without the possibility of parole.
As the courtroom erupted into whispers and murmurs, I turned to Wesley, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“It’s over,” I whispered, my voice quivering.
Wesley pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. “It’s over,‘ he echoed.
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We exited the courthouse together, encircled by swarming media. Cameras flashed; reporters shouted questions, but none of it mattered.
The headlines were already being written: Quentin Brooks Sentenced to Life in Prison.
For the first time in years, I felt free.
That night, we celebrated quietly at home.
The house was warm, filled with laughter as we shared dinner. Wesley kept making jokes, and for once, I couldn’t stop smiling.
Then, without warning, my stomach churned.
I dropped my fork, rushing to the bathroom as nausea surged over me.
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“Iris?” Wesley called.
I tried to respond, but a dizzy spell overtook me, dragging me into darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was lying in bed, Wesley sitting beside me, his hand tightly gripping mine.
“You scared me,” he said softly, his brow creased with concern.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice raspy.
“The doctor’s here,” he said, nodding toward the figure at the foot of the bed.
The doctor smiled warmly. “You’re fine, Mrs. Dorne. Just a fainting spell. Nothing to worry about.”
“Then why did I faint?” I asked, bewildered.
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The doctor’s smile broadened. “Because
you’re pregnant.”
My heart froze.
“What?” I whispered.
“You’re pregnant,” the doctor repeated. “Congratulations.”
I turned to Wesley, who looked momentarily stunned before breaking into a joyful grin.
“We’re having a baby,” he said softly, his voice laced with awe.
I nodded, tears streaming down my face.
For the first time, they weren’t tears of pain.
They were tears of joy.
