All Chapters of He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Imogene ScottI feel so stupid for asking that question. For asking Emmett if he was really in love with Breonna after they had both affirmed that their relationship was solely sexual.Maybe one part of me wanted it to be more. That way, Breonna wouldn’t have to move away if she gets posted far away for the job. She would stay for Emmett.But knowing the kind of person Breonna has always been, I don’t think she would tie herself down for any man even if she were in love with him.I sink deeper into my seat and sigh for the sixth or seventh time, I’m not sure. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get any job done today. My thoughts are too loud in my head. Maybe I can do something else with that time; like go to the doctor’s appointment Damien arranged.He wants to be sure our baby is healthy and I understand he wants what’s best for us. I grab my phone and draft a text. [Me: Let’s visit the doctor today?]I really need to get things off my chest. I close my eyes and count seconds as I wai

Damien Shaw Two more kids. The words are still sinking in. I watch Imogene get off the examination bed. She meets my gaze, and I feel like I'm really seeing her again for the first time. I thank the doctor, then reach for Lily’s hand and guide both of them out of the hospital.As we drive home, I can’t help but keep glancing at her. She’s turned toward the window, and I steal every moment I can to study her profile. Her hand rests on her stomach now in a protective way, like she’s already taking care of our two babies.“Stop staring,” she says, glancing at me.I smile, shaking my head. “How can I? I feel like the luckiest person on earth right now.”“I can’t believe it either, Damien. Two more kids…” I reach over and take her hand, squeezing it. “You’re going to have to take extra care of yourself now, Imogene. No excuses. You’re listening to me on this.”She raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a child, Damien.”“Right now, you are. And we’re already taking care of everything with the

Imogene Scott Two weeks later…Damien’s voice is calm as he repeats himself. “You do know you don’t have to work, right?” I pretend not to hear him as I pull the zipper of my dress up, looking at my reflection in the bedroom mirror. I adjust the hem and smooth my hands down the fabric, avoiding his eyes. But I can feel his gaze burning into my back. He’s been like this for two weeks now.“Imogene,” he says again.I take a deep breath, letting my hands fall to my sides. Turning around, I meet his eyes. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed. I knew this would be hard, hell, it’s been hard for me, too. But Damien’s worry has only made it harder. The doctors told us to be extra careful with my health, with the babies’ health, and it’s rattled him in a way I’ve never seen before. He hasn’t even been to the office since we got back from Hong Kong. He’s been working remotely, controlling everything. But I can tell it’s eating at him. We can’t both sit around, holding our breaths and wa

Damien Shaw I slam my foot on the gas, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles are white. My heart is pounding in my chest, as I push through traffic toward the city hospital. Imogene’s voice on the phone replays in my head. She hadn’t told me why she wanted me at the hospital, and she’s stopped answering my calls too. What if something happened to the babies? Or to her? The thought nearly sends me careening off the road as I swerve back into my lane. I arrive at the hospital and barely remember parking. I’m out of the car in seconds, rushing into the emergency ward. Then I see her. Imogene is standing near the doors, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face pale is a little pale but that’s about it. Relief floods through me, and I don’t even notice the man standing next to her. I close the distance in a few strides. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” My hands reach for her, scanning her body like I’m trying to confirm with my own eyes that she’s fine

Imogene Scott Three weeks have passed, but the stress of it still clings to me. The sterile smell of disinfectant in the hospital room is almost comforting now. I sit on the edge of Breonna’s bed, folding the last of her clothes into a small overnight bag. “I can’t believe I’ve been stuck here for three weeks,” Breonna says. She’s lying on the bed, her back propped up against the stiff hospital pillows, looking more herself now. The color has returned to her cheeks, and there’s a little hint of determination in her eyes that I haven’t seen in a while. I fold the last blouse, smoothing out the wrinkles as I reply, “I’m just glad you and the baby are better now. It’s a shame we haven’t heard from Emmett since he stormed out of here.” Breonna shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I don’t need him anyway.” Her words are sharp, almost too sharp, as if she’s trying to convince herself more than me. I glance up at her, frowning. “Are you sure? You’re really going to be able to cope in