Chapter 8 - The Second Beginning
A year after the balcony, Damien and I stood in front of a judge.
Not for divorce.
For remarriage.
Our original divorce had been finalized.
This time there were no witnesses from business.
No executives.
No family politics.
Only my father.
David.
A few close friends.
And a quiet room.
The judge asked whether we were entering the marriage freely.
I looked at Damien.
“Yes.”
He said the same.
Then we exchanged rings.
Mine wasn't the original platinum ring.
That one remained in a box.
The new ring was simple.
A narrow band with no diamonds.
No family crest.
No symbol of wealth.
Just two words engraved inside.
By Choice.
After the ceremony, my father hugged Damien.
“You know I'm still watching you.”
Damien smiled.
“I'd be disappointed if you weren't.”
David laughed.
The reception was small.
No newspapers.
No cameras.
No social media.
Just people who actually knew us.
Later that night, Damien and I stood on a balcony.
I froze.
He noticed immediately.
“We can go inside.”
I breathed slowly.
“No.”
He waited.
I looked at the glass doors.
Then at him.
“I don't want that balcony to own me forever.”
He stepped beside me.
“It won't.”
I took his hand.
“You know what I realized?”
“What?”
“I thought the worst part was being locked outside.”
He looked at me.
“It wasn't.”
“What was?”
“Realizing I could have died while the man I loved was inside.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
“You don't have to apologize.”
“I still will.”
I smiled.
“Then I know you're serious.”
We laughed softly.
The past didn't disappear.
But it stopped controlling us.
Six months later, I discovered I was pregnant.
I stared at the test for several minutes.
Then I walked into Damien's office.
He looked up.
“What's wrong?”
I placed the test on his desk.
He stared.
Then looked at me.
“Are we—”
“Yes.”
He stood so quickly his chair nearly fell over.
Then he laughed.
Then he cried.
Then he came around the desk and wrapped his arms around me.
I whispered, “I'm scared.”
“So am I.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
“Why?”
“Because this time we're both honest.”
He kissed my forehead.
“We're going to be okay.”
And for the first time, I believed it.
The pregnancy wasn't easy.
There were appointments.
Nervous nights.
Too many books.
Too much advice from my father.
And Damien became almost absurdly protective.
He tried to install a security system.
I refused.
He hired a nutritionist.
I fired her.
He bought a dozen pillows.
I kept three.
One night, he looked at me and laughed.
“You've changed.”
“So have you.”
He knelt beside the sofa.
He placed his hand gently against my stomach.
A tiny movement answered.
His eyes widened.
“Was that—”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“I felt it.”
Tears filled his eyes.
I touched his cheek.
“What?”
“I never thought I'd get this.”
“What?”
“A normal life.”
I smiled.
“You earned it.”
“No.”
May you like
He kissed my hand.
“You chose it.”
