The Unwavering Heart That Broke novel Chapter 19

“Mom!”

“Nathalie!”

“Oh my god!”

Panicked shouts echoed around the pool.

Jasper, so small but so fast, bolted for the edge and leaped into the water. He flailed through the ripples, arms outstretched, desperately trying to reach Felice.

A second, louder splash followed. Lance had jumped in too.

Neither Felice nor Nathalie could swim.

When Nathalie let go, Felice started to thrash, hands clawing at the air as she struggled to stay above water. Nathalie just let herself go, arms open, surrendering as she started to sink to the bottom.

She was terrified. All at once, a childhood memory of nearly drowning crashed over her. Her whole body shook. That terror was why she had always avoided pools, why even the thought of water made her breath catch in her throat.

Lance knew this. He’d never let her near a pool in all these years.

Even under the wavering light, even as her lungs started to burn, she watched him.

Who would he choose?

In these moments, Nathalie didn’t care about his explanations or promises. Only his actions mattered.

Above her, light flickered. She struggled to hold her breath as bubbles escaped her lips and floated upwards.

She watched as Lance pulled Jasper from the water first, passing him up to people waiting on the poolside. Then he turned, swimming quickly toward her.

But just as he neared, Felice seemed to lose all her strength. She stopped fighting and began to slip under.

Nathalie saw him change course and reach for Felice instead.

She closed her eyes.

Something inside her just… broke.

In Lance’s world, Jasper came first, Felice was second, and she was always third.

No. That list didn’t even include everyone else. What happens when Leda comes into the picture? Or his parents?

Maybe there was never any place for her at all.

This was the man she’d loved for eight years.

“Nathalie, what are you doing?”

He knelt down in front of her. Seeing her face—so pale, so haunted—made something twist painfully inside him.

Then Nathalie lifted her hand and slapped him.

The sound rang out sharp in the tense, silent air.

Everyone watching seemed to stop breathing.

Nathalie had actually slapped Lance. The CEO of the Adams Group. No one ever stood up to him—no one except her.

“Divorce,” Nathalie said, her voice barely more than a whisper, hoarse and cold as ice. Her eyes were bottomless, black and empty. “If this can happen once, it’ll happen again.”

Lance pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and just stared at her, his expression locked up tight. Then he simply picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

He turned to Bagot. “Get some ginger tea ready.”

Lance carried her upstairs, wrapping her in a big soft towel once they were inside.

Nathalie looked up at him, her eyes blank, her voice flat. “When did you get the vasectomy?”