No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 593

Damian looked down at Scarlett, lying still in the hospital bed. Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful.

He didn't answer Violet's question. Instead, he asked, "Violet, what happened? Is she okay?"

Violet sighed. "She was trying to go find you. Got out of bed too fast and passed out."

Guilt and worry flickered across Damian's face. He sat down beside the bed and gently took Scarlett's cold hand in his.

Then he glanced back at Violet. "You've been here awhile. Go home and get some rest. I'll stay with her."

Violet had always liked Damian. She'd been hoping things would work out between him and Scarlett for a while now. So when he asked, she didn't hesitate. She grabbed her things and left without a second thought.

About half an hour later, Scarlett stirred. Her voice cut through the quiet room, sharp with fear. "Damian!"

Her eyes flew open.

Damian leaned in close. "I'm here, Scarlett. Right here."

She turned her head slowly, staring at his face like she wasn't sure if he was real or not. Then, without warning, she sat up and threw her arms around his neck. "You're okay. Thank God. I thought... I thought..."

She couldn't finish. She didn't have to. The fear was all over her face.

Damian wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her ear. "I'm sorry. I scared you."

Scarlett held on tight and cried. Really cried.

"Why didn't you text me back? Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Damian didn't know what to say. He just kept repeating, "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

He'd seen her calls. Ruth's too. He hadn't picked up because he knew they were worried—worried he'd do something stupid. They didn't want him going after revenge.

But he also hadn't answered because they were the two most important people in his life.

How could he just sit there and do nothing when someone hurt them?

That shot—he could've aimed for Daniel's heart. He didn't. He hit his leg instead.

If something happened to a normal guy in Rivergate, maybe no one would care. But if Daniel died? That was a whole different story.

Damian had lost it for a second back there. When Daniel ran his mouth, for a moment, he really wanted to kill him.

But then he thought about Scarlett. And Ruth. He didn't want the women he loved to grieve over him.

So he aimed for the leg.

She leaned back against the headboard, staring at nothing in particular. "Damian. Please leave."

He blinked. "Why? A second ago, you were—"

Her reaction earlier hadn't been fake. He'd felt it.

She cut him off. "I need to rest."

Her face had gone cold. Distant.

But Damian wasn't buying it. He gently turned her toward him, but she still wouldn't meet his eyes.

Something else was eating at her. He could feel it. And maybe if he could figure out what it was, she'd stop holding back.

His hands tightened on her shoulders—not enough to hurt, but enough to get her attention. "Scarlett. Look at me."

She didn't want to. But he kept moving, kept trying to catch her gaze.

Finally, she gave in and looked up.

He held her eyes. "Is this about Melinda? Or Vincent? Nolan? Your family? Is that why you won't let yourself feel this?"