Derek’s POV
There’s no way to describe the feeling of watching the woman you love walk away with another man. It’s like watching your entire world collapse in slow motion.
Seeing Bella with Vance, her actual husband, felt like soone had ripped my heart straight from my chest.
Every nightmare I’d tried to push away ca crashing down on at once. I felt like the biggest fool alive.
All this ti, I’d convinced myself she was lying. That the husband story was just another wall she’d built to keep us out. That she was using him as an excuse to prove we’d lost our chance with her forever.
I thought she just wanted to show us she had sowhere else to belong.
But standing there, watching them together, I realized the truth. This wasn’t the sa Bella who used to be ours. The woman I’d loved for years had moved on completely.
I’d lost my chance to be anything to her. Friend, lover, protector. Nothing.
My father kept shooting those knowing looks. The ones that scread he’d been right all along and I should have listened to his warnings.
After Bella signed whatever papers they’d brought, Vance pulled her close against his side. They walked back toward their house like the perfect married couple they were.
I had no choice but to head back to the guest house where we were staying.
The building had multiple floors. My father and Serena were on the second floor with , while my friends had their own spaces. Parker took the first floor, and Hugo had claid the third floor all to himself.
I barely made it to the hallway before my father appeared behind .
"Well, that husband of hers is certainly easy on the eyes. Rich too, from the looks of it," he said with that smug tone I hated.
I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, trying to hide how much his words cut. He’d use any sign of weakness against .
"Good for her," I managed to say.
"Is it really good for her, though? You should have taken my advice when I offered it."
There it was. The lecture I’d been expecting.
"And what exactly was your advice? Lie about sleeping with her? I already told you we were never intimate," I reminded him through gritted teeth.
"Walking to her suite with tonight suggested otherwise. Or did you back down because you knew demanding a DNA test would make her hate you?" he pushed, trying to dig deeper into my wounds.
"The truth is what it is. We were never together like that. Those children belong to Vance." Each word felt like swallowing glass.
Calling my daughter Vance’s child was agony, but I had to do it. I couldn’t let Bella see as her enemy.
"Well, if you insist on sticking to that story, I won’t push you further," my father said, giving a patronizing pat on the shoulder before disappearing into his room.
Left alone in the hallway, I stared at my bedroom door. My hand hovered over the handle as I tried to steady my breathing.
I didn’t want to go inside. The terrace seed like a better option, sowhere I could think clearly. But before I could move, the door swung open and Serena stepped out.
"Get in here," she ordered, pointing back into the room.
I closed my eyes in frustration. If I refused, she’d cause a scene that would echo through the entire guest house. My friends would hear every word of whatever fight she started.
I walked past her, and she slamd the door behind us.
"Are you done wallowing? Have you gotten it all out of your system yet?" she demanded from behind as I rubbed my temples.
"I don’t know what you an. You heard what I told my father. I couldn’t ask for a DNA test because nothing ever happened between us," I said quickly, hoping she’d bought the story.
But her disgusted snort told she hadn’t heard that conversation.
When I turned around, my breath caught. She was wearing the smallest, most revealing lingerie I’d ever seen. She’d clearly been preparing for sothing very different before I walked in with bad news.
"What?" she snapped, grabbing the robe she’d apparently just taken off and pulling it back on.
"Your father dragged you over there to demand a DNA test?" she pressed, reaching for my arm.
This was how it always went. When Serena wanted answers, she got physical. And I hated it.
Because if I ever reacted instinctively and pushed her away, she’d get hurt. Then I’d be the villain, no matter how many tis she’d put her hands on first.
So whenever she got aggressive, I either locked my hands behind my back or buried them in my pockets, refusing to take them out.
Even now, as she gripped my wrist hard enough to hurt, her nails digging crescents into my skin, I kept my hands where they were.
"It was just my father trying to ss with her head. I don’t want to discuss it," I muttered, initially trying to protect his reputation.
But then I rembered he’d never do the sa for .
He was the reason I couldn’t be with Bella in the first place. Why should I protect him?
"Wait, I thought your father wanted her gone," she said, tightening her grip on my arm.
When I tried to step away, her nails raked across my skin, leaving angry red marks.
"Ask him yourself. I’m not getting involved," I said flatly, pulling free and heading toward the bathroom.
But before I could escape, she rushed at from behind, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her hands pressed flat against my stomach, fingers interlocked so tightly that separating them would take real effort.
"Serena, I’m exhausted tonight," I said, my voice coming out more like begging than refusing.
"But I’ve been waiting for you. It’s been days since we’ve been together," she whispered against my back.
"Her husband is here now. If you’re worried about your friend, don’t be. I’m sure she’s being very well taken care of tonight," she added with fake innocence, making sure I pictured exactly what Bella and Vance might be doing.
The image destroyed what little desire I had left.
"We need to work on us, Derek. I’m tired of all this fighting," she murmured, her hands sliding across my chest and stomach before moving lower.
"I really do love you. I know I get emotional sotis, but you have to believe . I care about you more than anyone ever will."
By the ti she finished speaking, her hands had slipped inside my pants, and I felt my resolve cracking.
Maybe she was right. Maybe Bella was happy with her husband.
Maybe it was ti I stopped torturing her with reminders of a past she’d clearly left behind and focused on my own marriage instead.
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