Chapter 2: “The Choice“

Tayla’s POV

I woke up to an empty bed.

At first, I thought Damian had gone downstairs for coffee.

It wasn’t unusual.

Whenever stress kept him awake, he usually started his mornings before everyone else.

But something felt different.

The house felt different.

Too quiet.

Too still.

A strange uneasiness settled in my stomach as I sat up and glanced at the clock.

7:34 AM.

Damian was usually back by now.

I slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe.

The hallway was silent.

Noah’s room was still closed.

The smell of breakfast wasn’t drifting from the kitchen.

Nothing.

Just silence.

The deeper I walked into the penthouse, the stronger the anxiety became.

Then I found him.

Standing alone in his office.

Looking out the window.

His suit was perfectly pressed.

His tie neatly adjusted.

His posture straight.

Yet something about him looked broken.

Like a man preparing for his own funeral.

My heart squeezed painfully.

“Damian?”

He turned.

Immediately forcing a smile.

But this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

I crossed the room.

“You’ve been awake all night, haven’t you?”

His silence answered for him.

I reached for his hand.

It was cold.

Ice cold.

“Talk to me.”

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to.

Like he was seconds away from telling me everything.

Then his expression closed.

And the walls went back up.

“I’m okay.”

The lie hurt more than I expected.

Because lately, it felt like I was losing him piece by piece.

And I didn’t know how to stop it.

An hour later, Noah came running into the kitchen.

“Daddy!”

Damian immediately scooped him into his arms.

The smile on his face was genuine this time.

Watching them together always melted my heart.

Noah wrapped his arms around Damian’s neck.

“Are you taking me to school today?”

For a split second, something flickered across Damian’s face.

Pain.

Regret.

Heartbreak.

Then it disappeared.

“Of course.”

Noah grinned.

“Promise?”

My breath caught.

The word hit harder than it should have.

Promise.

The same promise Damian had given me last night.

The same promise I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about.

Damian kissed Noah’s forehead.

“I promise.”

The drive to school felt strangely emotional.

Noah chatted endlessly from the backseat.

Talking about superheroes.

His favorite teacher.

A science project.

Everything.

Damian listened to every word.

Every single one.

As if he was trying to memorize the sound of his son’s voice.

By the time we arrived, my chest hurt.

Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

I could feel it.

Noah hugged his father before climbing out.

“Love you, Daddy.”

Damian froze.

Then pulled him back into another hug.

Longer this time.

Tighter.

Almost desperate.

“I love you too, buddy.”

Noah laughed.

“Daddy, I can’t breathe.”

Damian immediately let go.

But his smile looked fragile.

Like it might shatter at any moment.

I watched Noah disappear through the school gates.

Then turned toward my husband.

His eyes were fixed on our son.

Refusing to look away.

And suddenly…

I felt afraid.

“Damian.”

He finally turned.

“What?”

The question escaped before I could stop it.

“Are you dying?”

Shock crossed his face.

“What?”

Tears immediately burned my eyes.

“Tell me the truth.”

His expression crumbled.

“Tayla…”

“You’ve been acting like you’re saying goodbye.”

My voice broke.

“You keep looking at Noah like you’ll never see him again.”

His jaw tightened.

Pain flashed through his eyes.

Real pain.

The kind that made my heart ache.

Then he reached across the center console and took my hand.

“I am not dying.”

“Then what’s happening?”

Silence.

Again.

Always silence.

The answer I never received.

Finally, he lifted my hand and kissed it.

A gesture so familiar it nearly broke me.

“I love you.”

Fresh tears filled my eyes.

“That’s not an answer.”

“No.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“It’s not.”

At exactly 8:00 AM, Damian’s phone rang.

His entire body stiffened.

My stomach dropped.

The screen lit up.

Unknown Number.

Fear crawled down my spine.

He stared at it.

The phone continued ringing.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then he answered.

“Yes.”

The voice on the other end said something.

I couldn’t hear what.

But I watched all the color drain from Damian’s face.

Watched his shoulders slump.

Watched defeat settle over him.

When the call ended, he closed his eyes.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then he started the car.

“Damian?”

Nothing.

“Damian, talk to me.”

His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

And finally—

“I’m sorry.”

The words barely reached me.

“What?”

He looked straight ahead.

Never once meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

A terrible feeling settled in my chest.

Because people didn’t apologize like that unless something awful was coming.

And somehow…

I knew my life was about to change forever.