Chapter 123 

Soren stared at her, stunned and bewildered. 

How could she be so calm? 

The unease in his chest swelled, tightening until it was almost unbearable. 

He never liked seeing people fall apart, but right now, he’d have preferred to see Evangeline break down–screaming, crying, even blaming him outright. Anything would have been better than this. Instead, her face was composed, her eyes strangely clear, the pain inside them fading to something distant. 

It felt as if a stone was lodged in his chest–impossible to swallow, impossible to spit out. 

After a long moment, his voice came out hoarse. “How did the baby die?” 

“Car accident. Miscarriage.” Evangeline’s reply was brief, almost clinical. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Soren’s gaze locked onto her, red–rimmed and desperate. 

Evangeline froze for a split second. 

He’s actually upset? 

But then it made sense. The baby was his too. Of course he’d be hurt. 

But that didn’t change anything. 

She met his eyes. “Does it matter why? The baby’s gone. What’s the point in digging it all up now?” 

The lightness in her voice made Soren’s frustration flare. She’d hidden her pregnancy from him. The baby was gone, and he’d known nothing. What did she 

take him for? 

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He crossed the space between them in two strides, grabbing her shoulders with both hands, his grip hard enough to bruise. “Evangeline, don’t forget–I’m your husband. I’m that baby’s father. I have a right to know.” 

The sharp tang of whiskey hit her, and only then did she realize he’d been drinking. His hands were crushing, as if he meant to grind her bones to dust. Evangeline tried to push him off, struggling to break free, but his grip only tightened. 

Five years together had taught her Soren’s stubbornness. The more you pulled, the harder he dug in–especially after a drink. 

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Chapter 123 

She stopped fighting and stared straight into his eyes. “When you were so busy taking care of Poppy, did you ever remember you were my husband too? That you were supposed to be the father of my child?” 

He’d had Liam throw her out of the hospital, all so Poppy could rest better. He’d pampered Poppy to the point of obsession. Even if she’d told him about the miscarriage, what difference would it have made? 

Soren froze, her words hitting him harder than any physical blow. 

She’s blaming me–for not being there, for not caring enough. 

Slowly, Soren’s anger ebbed. He let go of her shoulders, his hands falling to his sides. “So that’s why you moved out? Because of the baby?” 

So she hadn’t just been playing games–she was genuinely furious that he’d chosen Poppy over her. 

Evangeline looked at him, baffled. They were divorced. Wasn’t moving out something they’d both agreed on? 

When she stayed silent, Soren took it as confirmation. He’d spent all this time caring for Poppy, neglecting Evangeline completely. 

Conflicting emotions twisted inside him. He stared at her face, wanting to apologize, but the words caught in his throat. 

After a pause, his voice turned cold. “Come back home. I’ll allow you to give me 

another child.” 

Evangeline looked at him, saw the way he said it–like he was granting her a favor and she laughed, sharp and hollow. 

Losing that baby had nearly killed her. But to him, it was just the loss of a child–nothing more. One gone, another would come. His grief would last a day or two, maybe a week, until a new baby was born and the memory of this one faded 

away. 

But for her, that loss would/stain the rest of her life. 

“No,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes with steady resolve. “Soren, I will never have another child with you.” 

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