Eight Years of Maybe One Day of I Do—Bride Swapped Deal With It novel Chapter 90

Chapter 12

When Victoria discovered what had happened, she didn’t punish Simon. She blamed Nina instead-for losing the baby and for “traumatizing” her precious grandson.

Nina lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondered why she’d ever thought raising Simon was a good idea.

She’d taken him to hurt Annie. To keep Derek tethered to her. And now that same child-Annie’s biological son-had just destroyed her life.

After the miscarriage, any hope of marrying into the Connor family evaporated.

The trauma broke something in Nina’s mind. She started having episodes-screaming at people who weren’t there, insisting Derek still loved her.

The Connors had her quietly committed to a private psychiatric facility.

She escaped twice. The second time, she showed up at Derek and Annie’s house, pounding on the door until security arrived.

“I raised your son! I got pregnant with your baby! And you locked me up like I’m nothing?” Her voice was ragged, hysterical. “I’m the one who’s

always loved you! Annie was just-she was a placeholder! She meant nothing!”

Derek’s security team had her restrained within minutes.

Before they took her away, Derek looked at her with complete indifference.

“I thought you understood boundaries. I compromised for Simon’s sake-that’s all it ever was.”

His voice was flat. “But you’ve made it impossible for my wife to come home. So what exactly was the point of any of this?”

Something inside Nina snapped completely.

She’d spent years believing Derek had feelings for her. That somewhere deep down, he’d been hers first and would eventually be hers again.

But he was looking at her like she was a stranger. Like she’d never mattered at all.

Derek turned away before the orderlies could load her into the van. He was done wasting time on Nina.

If he hadn’t been so stupid-if he hadn’t let Nina manipulate him into doing things that hurt Annie-maybe she wouldn’t have left.

Six months now. Not a single word.

He booked another flight. The search wasn’t over.

Three Years Later

Santa Claus Village, Finland

Christmas brought massive tourist crowds. I’d just finished writing a postcard to Lily and dropped it in the mailbox when I turned around and found myself face to face with someone I never expected to see again.

Derek stood there frozen, his expression carefully blank but his eyes wild with shock.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared like he was afraid I might disappear if he blinked.

Idex There were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and his whole face carried this exhausted, haunted

quality.

I pretended not to care and tried to walk past him.

His hand shot out and caught my sleeve.

“Annie…”

His voice cracked. “I finally found you.”

There were actual tears in his eyes.

I’d never seen Derek cry. For a second, I was too startled to react.

But whatever I’d felt for him three years ago was long gone. The shock of seeing him was already fading into mild annoyance.

I stepped back politely, tugging my arm free.

He held on tighter.

“Come home with me. Please.”

The words tumbled out fast, desperate. “Simon’s waiting for you. He’s changed-he only calls you Mom now. And Nina-everything she did to you, I know about all of it. She’s been dealt with. There’s nothing standing between us anymore.”

I blinked at him.

Nina’s name felt distant, like someone from a movie I’d watched years ago.

“I was wrong. About everything. I didn’t understand what I had until you were gone.” He pulled me closer, his voice breaking. “Let’s go back and make it official again. The three of us, together. I swear, I’ll never let anything come between us.”

He wrapped both arms around me, holding me like I might vanish.

“You’re my wife. You’ve always been my wife. That’s never changing. Just come home.”

Before I could respond, someone grabbed Derek by the shoulder and yanked him backward.

Alex had returned from the gift shop. He immediately positioned himself between us, one arm around my waist, glaring at Derek.

“Back off.”

Alex’s English was accented but clear.

“That’s my wife you’re grabbing. Show some respect.”

Alex was Finnish-six-foot-four, usually calm and soft-spoken, but fiercely protective when it came to me.

We’d met three years ago in Iceland when I’d collapsed during a hike. He’d carried me down the mountain himself.

Derek looked like someone had just told him the sun wasn’t real.

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