No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 557

If she turned Daniel down too firmly, would he eventually move on and find someone else?

That thought lingered, and for a moment, Sabrina wasn't sure what to say.

But then she thought about where things stood with Vincent, and she steadied herself. She looked at Daniel and said, clearly, "Daniel, I've always thought of you as a brother. My best brother."

His face crumpled. "I don't want to be your brother. I don't want that. I want to marry you."

Sabrina studied him for a second, wondering if he'd been drinking. But there was no smell of alcohol. He was completely sober—and he meant every word.

She set her jaw and said it again, firmer this time. "Daniel, I'm going to marry Vincent. No one else. Just him."

His eyes were wet now, red-rimmed and raw. He gestured vaguely, anger bleeding into his voice. "Sabrina, Vincent's a mess. You see what happened to Scarlett, right? She put him first too—gave him everything—and look where she ended up. You want that to be you?"

She could hear it in his voice. He really did care about her.

After a pause, she walked toward him slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Daniel. Relax. I'm not Scarlett. I won't let that happen to me. And even if I did..." She leaned in closer, just enough to make his breath catch. "I'd still have you, wouldn't I?"

His face flushed. His heart pounded.

Then she pulled back.

And just like that, something in his chest dropped.

She turned and walked toward the stairwell door. Just as she reached for the handle, his voice came from behind her—urgent, raw. "Sabrina. If you're ever unhappy with him—just turn around. I'll be here. Always."

She didn't turn. Just said, quietly, "I know." And then she was gone.

Daniel stood there, frozen. But his heart kept racing, matching the rhythm of her fading footsteps.

She wasn't indifferent to him. He was sure of it now. It was Vincent—Vincent was the only thing in the way.

*****

After falling out of bed earlier, Scarlett hadn't moved much since. No matter how thirsty she got, she held out.

More water meant more trips to the bathroom. And in her current state, that was its own kind of nightmare.

She couldn't afford to think about it. She cut back on fluids, put it off as long as she could.

But when it became unbearable, she had no choice. She dragged herself up, gritted her teeth, and made the slow, painful journey to the bathroom. Her good leg took most of the weight.

By the time she made it back to bed, she was completely drained.

Her body was slick with sweat. The sheets beneath her were damp.

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