For a second, I almost believed in this version of him. Almost. But the lingering ache in my spine reminded me, this was all real. And none of it was love.

After dinner, Scott left to take care of some work. That was when my phone rang.

"Ms. Langley," an old yet familiar voice said. "Just reminding you, two days from now, everything is set. Don’t forget our agreement."

It was Yosef Lambert from the Dragon Squad. We had trained together years ago.

I glanced down at my swollen belly. "I won’t forget. Just make sure you do what you promised. He has to believe I’m dead, I have to die in front of Scott."

The line went dead. Right then, the door swung open.

Scott leaned against the frame, arms crossed, eyes sharp. "I heard my name, what exactly are you planning to do in front of me, honey?"

I quickly locked my phone and kept my voice even. "Nothing, just asking the psychologist if giving birth in front of you might traumatize you for life."

Scott didn’t even hesitate, just pulled me into a hug, his voice thick with emotion. "How could it? You went through hell for our child. The least I can do is be there. Besides, I’m the team leader, I’ve seen worse."

I just smiled at him, saying nothing.

"By the way, Abigail," he continued, "we’re having a celebration tonight. It’s for the successful recovery of the Dragon Squad and to prep for the mission the day after tomorrow. You’ve been through enough lately, so get some rest, I won’t be home."

I shook my head. "Take me with you."

Scott's expression tightened. "No. You're still recovering, and I won’t allow it."

And just like that, he turned and walked out, leaving me in the bedroom. But how could I sit this one out? A party to celebrate what cost me my legs, I had every right to be there.

At 7 p.m., I rolled myself into the venue. Glasses clinked, laughter filled the air, but as soon as I entered, the whispers started.

"Isn’t that Mr. Foster’s wife? She never shows up to these things."

"I mean… she was impressive once, but now? Just dead weight."

"Poor Chief. He’s stuck with her. If he’d married Commander Beckett instead, he’d actually be happy."

"I think old feelings might spark up again. Didn't you see them step out to the terrace together?"

Hearing that, I turned my wheelchair toward the terrace and overheard a familiar conversation.

"Jacqueline, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault that Jared has azoospermia," Scott said.