Chapter 138
The wheels of the plane had just touched Valmoria runway when I unbuckled my seatbelt and cradled the baby closer to my
As soon as I stepped out of the terminal, I saw them–my parents, waiting for me near the arrivals gate.
“Mom! Dad!” I called out, rushing toward them.
chest.
I was ready to fall into my mother’s arms, to collapse into her warmth and cry it all out–but just as I reached her, she put out her hands to stop me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she frowned. }
“You’re holding a baby. You’ll squish him if you throw yourself around like that,” she added.
She gave me a look full of love and exasperation, the kind only mothers can give. My father stepped in without a word and took the baby from my arms with practiced care.
Only then did I finally let myself collapse into my mother’s embrace.}
“Mom…” I whispered, but the rest of the sentence never came. The only thing that came were the tears–hot, fast and unstoppable.}
My mother held me tightly, stroking my back, her own eyes welling up. She didn’t ask questions. She understood. She could feel every ounce of my exhaustion, heartbreak and shame.}
Of course she understood.>
Years ago, when they decided to move abroad, they begged me to come with them.”
But I refused. Because of Beckett.}
Ustayed behind, clinging to the idea of a good life with him and eventually, I married him.”
And look what that got me–once the proud and confident daughter of the Carrington Family, now a single mother, worn down and broken, running home with nothing but my child in my arms.
The more I thought about it, the harder I cried.}
My mother just kept holding me. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know. You’ve been through so much. You’re home now. And I swear, Evelyn, you and your baby are never going to suffer again. Not on our watch.“}
My father stood beside us, holding the baby protectively, his eyes misty behind his glasses.”
“Evelyn,” he said, “I told you back then–Beckett Shaw was never going to make you happy. That man doesn’t know how to build a home. He doesn’t bring peace; he brings chaos.“}
He looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms, then back at me, his tone sharpening with resolve.
“His family may be equal to ours in status, but we raised you with every ounce of dignity and love we had. You don’t have to bow your head to anyone, Evelyn. Never again. And you made the right choice by bringing your child home.“}
He gently rocked the baby, then said with finality, “This child will carry our name. The Carrington name. I’ll make sure the world knows- he’s part of this family and our heir. I’ll throw a proper welcome party and introduce him as the newest member of the Carrington legacy.”}
With that, he gently placed the baby in his car seat and my mother and I climbed into the backseat.”
As the car pulled away from the airport, I looked out the window at the place I was leaving behind. Everything–my years with Beckett, the sacrifices I made, the way I had bent myself again and again to hold us together–I left it all there.
For years, I swallowed my pride and forgave Beckett for every mistake. No matter how badly we fought, no matter what he did, I always made room for him to come back.”
I thought that was love. I thought marriage was about compromise.}
But now I realized–I was the only one giving. The only one bending. The only one staying.”
Maybe, in the beginning, Beckett did love me. But my unconditional forgiveness made him complacent. The moment his precious Delaney came back, he forgot everything we’d built.
In the car, my mother was nagging me–venting her fury.
“You saved his life and he never even said thank you. And those scar–God, Evelyn, you don’t know how broken your father and my hearts are seeing those burn on your back.”
Her voice broke and I reached for her hand.
The fire… it was where everything began. I met Beckett because of that fire. I ran into a burning building for him. I saved him and I paid the price. A deep scar on my back that never fully healed.
I let out a quiet sigh, barely audible over the hum of the car. How was I supposed to explain everything to them? The years I spent married to Beckett weren’t just emotionally scarring–they left a mark deeper than any burn. This time, I hadn’t just come back heartbroken… I came back carrying something far worse.
Cancer.
The word sat heavy in my chest, like a weight I couldn’t shake.
I hadn’t told them. Not yet. I’ve made them sad enough. #
But even if I kept quiet, my body would soon betray me. They’d notice and when they did, the pain in their eyes would be worse.
Could I really survive this? Could I hold on long enough to watch my baby grow up?
I glanced out the window, my chest tightened with fear
