Daniel chuckled softly.
"Mr. Huntington, I will convey your request. But if you truly have sincerity, Mr. Huntington, perhaps you should sign the agreement first. That might be the only condition under which Ms. Bridges would be willing to see you."
"No."
Rhys refused flatly.
If he signed, he and Clara were truly finished.
As long as he could see her, as long as they could speak face to face, there might still be a turning point.
He could explain, he could apologize, he could take her to the best specialists to help her recover.
They could have children later, as long as she came back.
Daniel was silent for a few seconds.
"Fine. I will convey the message," he relented. "The location?"
"At your law firm," Rhys conceded a step. "Tomorrow afternoon at three."
"I will ask my client for her opinion, but I cannot guarantee she will agree."
Hanging up the phone, Rhys realized his palms were sweating.
He hadn't known when Clara was pregnant, and he hadn't been there when she lost it.
If only he had gone downstairs in time that day, or just a little earlier... if only he had gone to find her sooner.
Lately, he was constantly plagued by these meaningless "if onlys."
But he hadn't even known of the child's existence before it turned into a pool of blood, becoming a dead knot between him and Clara.
There was no way around it—and no way through it.
-
Daniel turned to look at Clara sitting on the sofa.
"He demands a meeting. Here at the firm."
Simon Walker was peeling an apple for Clara. Hearing this, his knife slipped, breaking the peel halfway.


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