Chapter 3

Georgia’s POV

The single word shattered the silence like glass.

Damien froze, his jaw tightening as he instinctively stepped back, his eyes darting between me and the boy who is now clutching at his pant leg. I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. My husband, the man who had always insisted he didn’t want children, was standing in front of his son.

I stared at him, searching his face for answers, for some kind of explanation, but all I saw was guilt.

“Damien?” my voice is sharp, cutting through the tension. “Is it true? Is he your son?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crouched down and gently placed his hands on Liam’s shoulders, a strained smile on his face. “Hey, buddy,” he said softly, before standing and finally meeting my gaze.

I laughed bitterly in realization, my hands clenching into fists. “Damien.” I called again but this time, those tears started to flow from my eyes. 

Taking a step towards him, I wiped my tears. “Explain why the man who doesn’t want children has one with someone else!”

“Explain!” I snapped, my voice rising. “Because right now, all I see is a man who’s lied to me, who’s betrayed me in the worst possible way.”

Patricia stepped forward, her expression calm but resolute. “My Luna.” She called.

The room was thick with tension, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on all of us. Liam, sensing the unease, clung to Damien’s leg, his wide eyes glancing between our faces.

“Georgia.” He called.

He reached for me, but I stepped back, shaking my head. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.

A crushing realization hit me. It all made sense now. Damien knew exactly what he was doing. He had fathered a child with his beta, hidden it from me, and manipulated me into believing I had the perfect marriage and the most devoted husband. All while ensuring I remained childless. I was utterly doomed.

“I can’t do this right now,” I spoke weakly.

And with that, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving behind the ruins of the life I thought I knew.

I stormed into my room, slamming the door behind me as tears blurred my vision. My chest was heaving, my mind racing, and my heart aching in a way I didn’t know was possible. The betrayal was too much to bear. How could everything I thought I knew about my husband—about us—be a lie?

Moments later, the door burst open, and Damien rushed in, his face pale and stricken. “Georgia,” he called “please, let me explain.”

I whirled around to face him, my tears flowing freely now. “Explain?” I spat, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “What is there to explain, Damien? That you have a son with Patricia? That you lied to me every single day of our marriage? That you made me believe we were perfect while hiding this?”

His hands shot up, palms outward as though he could physically shield himself from my words. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice trembling. “I was trying to protect you. I—”

“Protect me?” I cut him off, my voice rising. “Don’t you dare use that excuse, Damien. You weren’t protecting me; you were protecting yourself. You wanted to keep your dirty little secret hidden while I lived in this perfect illusion you created.”

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. “It wasn’t like that. I—Patricia and I, it was a mistake. It happened before I even met you. I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought it wouldn’t matter because it was in the past.”

“In the past?” I repeated, laughing bitterly as the tears continued to stream down my face. “How is it in the past when your son is standing in our living room, calling you daddy?”

Damien’s face crumpled, but I didn’t care. My pain was too raw, too overwhelming. I turned to the drawer, yanking it open with trembling hands. My fingers closed around the contraceptive pill packet—the pills he insisted I take before we were ever intimate. The pills he said would “keep me beautiful,” that would “help us enjoy life without complications.” I pulled them out and threw them at him, the packet hitting his chest before falling to the floor.

“You made me take these!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “You told me we didn’t need children, that it would ruin us, that I would change. And all this time, you had a child with someone else!”

“Georgia, it wasn’t like that,” he pleaded, stepping toward me. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I wanted us to have time for each other, to enjoy our lives together—”

“Stop it!” I screamed, backing away from him. “Just stop! I don’t believe a single word that comes out of your mouth anymore. Who knows how many children you have with other women too! How many more secrets are you hiding from me, Damien? How many other lies have you told?”

His face twisted in pain, and he ran a hand through his dark hair. “There’s no one else. I swear to you, it’s just Patrica. I made a mistake, but I love you. I love us.”

But I wasn’t listening. I turned to the wardrobe, yanking it open and pulling out my clothes. My hands moved, tossing dresses, tops, and jeans into a suitcase as I struggled to breathe through my sobs.

“Georgia, please,” Damien said, his voice breaking now. He stepped forward and grabbed the clothes I had just thrown into the suitcase, pulling them back out and placing them on the bed. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave. We can fix this.”

I paused, my chest heaving, and glared at him. “You can’t fix this, Damien. You can’t undo the lies, the betrayal, the years you made me feel like I wasn’t enough while you were hiding an entire child. This marriage is over.”

“No,” he said, his voice firm, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Don’t say that. You’re my mate. We’re meant to be together. I made mistakes, but I love you. I need you.”

I shook my head, shoving more clothes into the suitcase even as he kept pulling them back out. His desperation only fueled my anger. “If you needed me, you wouldn’t have lied to me. You wouldn’t have built our entire marriage on a foundation of secrets and deceit.”

He knelt beside the suitcase, grabbing my hands to stop me. “Please,” he whispered,

I yanked my hands away, glaring down at him. “There is no us anymore, Damien. Whatever we had is gone. You destroyed it the moment you decided I wasn’t worthy of the truth.” Today, which was supposed to be our anniversary, was now the worst day of my life.

I zipped the suitcase shut, wrenching it off the bed despite his attempts to stop me. He stood, blocking the door, his arms spread wide as if that would keep me from leaving.

“Move, Damien,” I said coldly, my tears finally drying as a numbness began to take over and then I walked out.

Damien didn’t follow me this time. Maybe he knew it was useless. Maybe, for once, he realized his words couldn’t save him.

I was done being a fool.