Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80

“Better today, I think. The nannies are helping enormously, and she actually managed a full night’s sleep last night for the first time since Marissa’s crisis started.” I considered how to phrase the next part carefully. “I talked to my father this afternoon, actually. Set the boundary we discussed, about giving her space rather than pushing for reconciliation while she’s still this exhausted.”

“How did he take that,” Evelyn asked, genuine curiosity evident.

“Better than I expected. He agreed immediately, actually seemed to understand the reasoning without needing much convincing.” I paused, considering how much uncertainty still sat beneath that simple summary. “I still don’t fully trust it, honestly. Every time he responds well to something, part of me waits for the other shoe to drop,

for whatever manipulation I’m apparently still braced to eventually find underneath it.”

“That’s fair,” Evelyn said. “You don’t have to force trust just because he’s said and done the right things a few times in a row. Real change usually takes longer than a few weeks to actually prove itself.”

“I know.” I ran a hand through my hair, some of the day’s accumulated tension resurfacing. “I keep wondering when I’ll actually be able to relax about it, stop constantly evaluating everything he does for hidden angles.”

“Maybe you won’t, not fully,” Evelyn said honestly. “Maybe that careful vigilance just becomes part of how you relate to him going forward, at least for a long while. That doesn’t mean you can’t also appreciate genuine progress when you see it. Both things can exist together.”

I considered that, appreciating the wisdom in it, understanding she was speaking from genuine experience rather than abstract theory.

“Is that how it feels, with me?” I asked carefully. “Careful vigilance and appreciation for genuine progress, both existing together?”

She met my eyes steadily, considering the question with the same honest care she brought to everything else.” Yes,” she admitted. “I don’t think that’s going to change quickly, Damon. I want you to understand that clearly, even as things between us keep genuinely improving. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully stop watching for signs that this was all just performance rather than real change.”

“I understand,” I said, meaning it despite the small ache the admission caused. “I’d rather have your honest caution than false reassurance you don’t actually feel. That’s exactly what got us into trouble in the first place- me telling you things I thought you wanted to hear instead of what was actually true.”

She nodded slowly, something appreciative in her tired expression at the acknowledgment. “Exactly that. I need honesty from you more than I need comfortable reassurance, even when honesty means admitting things are still complicated and uncertain.”

We sat together for a while longer, the conversation gradually softening into quieter, more comfortable territory -small updates about the diner, Pete’s latest attempts at expanding the menu, funny stories about Willow’s increasingly expressive faces during feeding times. I found myself simply enjoying the quiet intimacy of it, grateful for these small, ordinary moments amid everything else still weighing on both of us.

Eventually, Evelyn’s exhaustion became too obvious to ignore, her eyes drifting closed briefly mid-sentence before she caught herself, laughing tiredly at her own lapse.

“Okay, I think that’s officially my cue,” she said, standing slowly. “Thank you for offering to clean up. I really do need actual sleep.”

“Go,” I said, standing to gather the dishes she’d left on the table. “I’ve got this. Sleep as long as you need. I’ll listen for Willow if she wakes.”

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“You don’t have to do that too,” she said, though gratitude was evident beneath the token protest.

“I want to,” I said firmly. “Let me actually take care of both of you tonight, properly. You’ve been managing everything alone for so long, Evelyn. Let me carry some of it, even just for one night.”

She studied the for a long moment, something warm and considering in her tired expression, before nodding slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

She crossed the room again before heading toward the bedroom, pressing another soft kiss to my cheek, lingering slightly longer this time. “Goodnight, Damon.”

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