Page 29

She stepped out of the vehicle, her heart beating with an exhilarating, fearless rhythm. The world finally felt right.

She rode the elevator to the executive floor, offering a bright, genuine smile to the receptionist. As she approached her suite, her assistant intercepted her in the corridor.

"Good morning, Lily," the assistant said, clutching a digital tablet to her chest. "A friend of yours came in to surprise you. I didn't want to leave her waiting alone in your office, so I set her up in Conference Room B."

Lily frowned, intrigued by the unexpected visit. She walked down the hall, her heels clicking against the polished tiles, and pushed the frosted glass door of the conference room open.

She froze in her tracks.

Sitting at the far end of the long mahogany table, surrounded by sterile corporate artwork and leather chairs, was Gemma.

The very last memory Lily had of the British blonde flashed through her mind in vivid, agonizing detail—Gemma bent over Ethan's desk, her skin flushed, moaning his name in a blind haze of betrayal.

"Hi," Gemma offered. Her voice lacked its usual pristine, ruthless confidence. She looked brittle, like spun glass ready to shatter. "I thought I could drop in and say hello to an old friend."

Lily squared her shoulders, refusing to let the ghosts of London intimidate her in her own workspace. "I don't have time for games, Gemma."

"Neither do I," Gemma replied, standing up. Her tailored designer suit hung loosely on her frame. "But as a girls' girl, I figured if you're going to forgive Ethan, you should do it knowing the entire truth. He has a distinct talent for feeding you trickle-truths to suit his narrative."

"I'm not interested," Lily stated, keeping her expression guarded and firm. "I want nothing to do with Ethan."

Gemma let out a bitter, cynical laugh. "You say that now. But you two are getting cozy again. I heard him on the phone with Margaret. He was bragging to his mother about how 'his Lily' smiles every single time he brings her favorite coffee to the office."

Lily felt a surge of profound irritation. The corporate vanilla latte Ethan insisted on delivering hadn't been her favorite order in months. He was operating on outdated memories, projecting a fantasy she no longer wanted any part of.

"Spit out whatever you came here to say, and then leave," Lily demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Gemma dug her manicured nails into her sleeves. "Ethan and I had a history long before you ever arrived in London. We hooked up on and off for years. When things got official between the two of you, our arrangement stopped. But it didn't take long for him to run right back to my bed at the first sign of trouble."

Lily searched Gemma’s face, disgusted by the sheer, calculating betrayal. It wasn't a drunken mistake. It was a vicious, continuous disrespect. "How did you have the nerve to pretend to be my friend?"

"Because I actually liked you," Gemma insisted, a defensive edge creeping into her tone. "You're a good person. I thought we could be friends, at least while your relationship with him ran its course. When he proposed to you, I honestly thought it was over. I thought he had finally found the woman he wanted to marry. But his actions proved otherwise. It will always be him and me."

Gemma took a ragged breath, preparing her next strike. "I know about his medical diagnosis. He confessed it to me in London."

She stopped, her eyes narrowing as she searched Lily's face. She was looking for the shock, the devastation, the sting of a fresh wound. When she found only calm, unbothered comprehension, Gemma’s jaw dropped in sheer astonishment.

"He told you."

Lily didn't flinch. "Yes. He told me."

Gemma let out a breathy, tragic laugh. "Then I bet he didn't tell you about our son."

Lily took a physical step backward, her pulse hammering in her ears. The air in the room grew unbearably thin.

Gemma watched her reaction, profound sorrow bleeding into her eyes. "I found out two months after you left London. We never used condoms. Given his medical test results, the possibility of a pregnancy never even crossed our minds. But it happened. I was overjoyed. When I told Ethan, he just panicked."

Gemma’s voice cracked, the memory ripping her apart all over again. "He started pacing the room, grabbing his hair and repeating over and over that it was impossible. He was hyperventilating, screaming that the doctors said it couldn't happen. He kept yelling that it was wrong, that it wasn't supposed to happen with me. You were the one who was supposed to be carrying his child."

Lily felt a crushing wave of nausea, the tragic reality of their tangled lives hitting her full force.

"I was devastated," Gemma continued, her voice trembling, stripping away the last of her pride. "But I told his family. Margaret and George were deeply disappointed by the scandal, but a baby changes things. They forgave us. Everyone was so happy about the baby growing inside me. We were planning a wedding. Ethan agreed we should get married for the sake of our child."

Gemma’s facade fractured into a million pieces. Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "But then... there was a complication. At seven months, I lost him. I had to go through labor and deliver my baby knowing he was already dead."

A broken sob tore from Gemma’s throat. She covered her face with her hands, weeping in the middle of the sterile boardroom. The sound was raw, primal, and utterly devastating.

Every ounce of resentment vanished from Lily's heart, replaced by an agonizing, visceral empathy. No woman deserved that specific brand of hell. She walked forward, placing a gentle hand on Gemma’s shaking shoulder. She guided the weeping woman back into the chair, grabbing a box of tissues from the center of the table. Lily rubbed soothing circles into Gemma's spine, offering whatever human comfort she could provide to a grieving mother.