Chapter 7: I'm Never Going Back

Mara's POV

A few more days passed before the doctor finally agreed to discharge me—as long as I came back on schedule for dressing changes and checkups.

I'd already texted Damon to tell him I was being released today, and I'd made it explicit: don't come pick me up.

He'd replied quickly at the time with "Got it," and I'd assumed he finally understood what I meant.

After finishing the paperwork, I changed my clothes and got into the wheelchair. Naomi grabbed the duffel bag I'd already packed and pushed me toward the main entrance of the inpatient building.

We'd barely cleared the hospital doors when a familiar black car pulled up in the very first lane.

Damon was leaning against the door.

When he saw us come out, he straightened up. He was holding a woman's coat.

He hadn't brought a single assistant. He just walked toward us like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His eyes landed on the duffel bag in Naomi's hand, and he reached out to take it.

"No need." Naomi shifted the bag to her other hand.

He probably figured that after stewing in the hospital for a few days, my temper should have burned itself out by now.

Damon came over to my wheelchair, bent down, and shook out the coat, ready to drape it over my shoulders.

I twisted away and dodged the movement.

His hand hung frozen in midair. He frowned, but recovered quickly.

"I've had the Ashford Estate cleaned up and prepared," he said, pulling the coat back and extending his hand to me.

"We'll talk about it when we get home."

I looked at his outstretched hand and didn't take it.

"I'm not going back to Ashford with you. Not now, not ever." I looked at him calmly. "I've already asked Naomi to find me another place to stay."

Damon's gaze slid past me to Naomi standing behind the wheelchair, then settled back on my face.

"Stop making a fuss, Mara." There was a trace of exhaustion in his voice.

"How are you supposed to recover somewhere out there? Come back to the estate with me—we have doctors and staff on call around the clock. You need proper rest."

"Home? That's your home."

"Didn't you used to beg me to make time for you? Now I've cleared my schedule and come to pick you up, and you insist on staying somewhere else?"

Half a month ago, hearing those words would have made me happy.

Now they just sounded absurd—so absurd I was speechless.

When I was choking on smoke in that study, when I pushed with everything I had and still couldn't open that balcony window—I needed him more than ever. And he walked away with Celeste and Sophie.

Now I've lost the baby. It's too late for all of it.

"I did want you to be with me." I looked straight into his eyes, measuring out every word.

"But that was before the fire. Now, I just want to leave this place, and I never want to see you again!"

Damon's expression darkened, and he spoke with barely contained anger:

"We're still married, Mara. You can't just decide to move out on your own without discussing it with me."

"Married?" I gripped the armrest of the wheelchair. "A marriage certificate nobody's ever seen doesn't get to decide where I live."

Just then, the car Naomi had called pulled up under the portico.

"The car's here. Let's go." Naomi didn't even glance at Damon. She pushed my wheelchair around him and headed for the vehicle.

The driver got out to help open the door. Naomi carefully helped me into the back seat.

I didn't look back, but in the rearview mirror through the window, I saw Damon still standing where he was, his face like a thundercloud.

He didn't chase after me or try to stop me by force. In his eyes, I was probably just acting on impulse—once I'd suffered enough out here and my body couldn't take it anymore, I'd naturally come crawling back to beg him.

He always thought he could control everything.

The car pulled smoothly into the street. I leaned back against the seat and let out a long breath.

My phone buzzed in my bag.

I pulled it out. It was a group chat for the Harborline project. My resignation process hadn't been finalized yet, so I was still in the group for the time being.

A new version of the client-facing introduction video had just been posted.

I clicked on it. On screen, Celeste was standing at the entrance of the third-floor lounge—the quiet room I'd specifically preserved for families with young children.

The furnishings, the layout, even the angle of the furniture placement—it was exactly the version I'd finalized with my team.

Celeste stood center frame, the picture of a project lead, smiling as she introduced the arrangement to the client. Damon stood right beside her, watching with a look of satisfaction.

At the end of the video, Celeste faced the camera and said in a tone dripping with consideration:

"Due to recent health issues, Mara—who was responsible for the early stages of this project—needs to rest for the time being. But don't worry, everyone. The behind-the-scenes coordination will still be in her capable hands. Together, we'll make this project the best it can be."

Damon chimed in from beside her: "I'll take care of the arrangements. No need to worry."

I rewound the video and listened to it again.

"The behind-the-scenes coordination will still be in her capable hands."

I'd already handed over all the materials. And yet, in front of the client, they'd promised I'd keep working on it.

Without even asking me.

I replied directly in the group chat:

【I have submitted my resignation, and all preliminary materials have been handed over. I did not agree to the follow-up coordination mentioned in the video, and I will not be responsible for it. Please revise that section to avoid misleading the client.】

Less than half a minute after I sent it, a private message from Damon popped up.

【There are client representatives in the group. Can you not make the client worry right now? Just cooperate and get this week's promotional launch through first. If you have complaints, we'll discuss them privately.】

I didn't reply. I closed the chat window.

Then I forwarded the company's email confirming receipt of the handover materials to the group.

The car soon pulled up in front of the short-term rental apartment.

The place wasn't big. No soaring living room like the Ashford Estate, no butler on standby—but it had the advantage of being very close to the hospital, with strict security.

Naomi helped me into the bedroom and opened my luggage.

She put the water and medicine I needed, the insulated cup, and the charging cable all within arm's reach from the bed.

"Visiting hours start at three this afternoon." Naomi stuck the schedule on the fridge and turned to look at me.

"Try to walk as little as possible for now. We'll call a car directly when we go to the hospital. I'll stay here with you until you're fully recovered."

"You really don't have to stay with me the whole time." I leaned back against the soft cushion, feeling the tension that had gripped me for so long finally begin to ease.

"You have your own life."

"I'll stay with you for a few days first, then we'll figure out the rest." She unscrewed the insulated cup and handed it to me.

"You want to kick me out the moment you're discharged?"

I finally managed a smile. "No."

"Then stop worrying about it."

She tucked the blanket around me and went out to finish unpacking. I closed my eyes, listening to her moving around outside, and slowly let go of the corner of the blanket I'd been clutching.

My phone sat on the nightstand.

The screen was dark. No new messages.

I thought of the day I'd said goodbye to my son in that hospital room, and the words Ronan had said before he left: "I'll contact you before you're discharged."

He was probably handling Vale Group business today.

As the highest-ranking person in the Northwestern pack, his schedule had to be packed.

I tapped the screen to check the time, locked it, and put it back.

I turned over and pulled the blanket up higher.

In the afternoon, I'd just dozed off for a short nap when my phone suddenly rang.

The caller ID said Evelyn.

I propped myself up and answered.

"Mara, am I interrupting your rest?" Evelyn's voice sounded somewhat serious.

"No, I just woke up. Is something the matter?"

"I wanted to follow up on our conversation about the estate, and learn more about what exactly you handled at Harborline." Evelyn said.

"So I called the project office."

"You contacted them?"

"Yes. The call was transferred to Celeste."

I held the phone and said nothing.

"She said you need to rest due to health issues and won't be taking on work for the time being." Evelyn continued.

"She also said the Harborline proposal was all done by the company team together, and that she's in charge now—that talking to her would be the same as talking to you."

I stared at the phone without a word.

"She asked me to send over the estate materials so she could take a look first, then bring them to Damon to discuss. If it's suitable, the company can arrange for a team to handle it."

I hadn't even decided whether I wanted to go to Evelyn's estate yet. And Celeste was already preparing to take this to Damon.

She hadn't even asked whether I was willing to hand this opportunity over to her.

"However, I haven't sent the materials yet." Evelyn said. "Daniel recommended you, so about your temporary break from work—I wanted to confirm with you first."

She paused.

"Mara, is this your own decision?"