Chapter 8 - A Husband on His Knees
Claire had imagined seeing Vincent again a thousand times.
In some versions, she screamed at him.
In others, she ignored him.
Once, during a moment of weakness, she imagined him appearing at her door with flowers and the apology she'd wanted for years.
But when she finally saw him again, he was standing outside the Flagstaff police station with bloodshot eyes and a face she barely recognized.
He looked exhausted.
His expensive black suit was wrinkled.
His jaw was unshaven.
And in his right hand, he held the small silver necklace she'd left behind.
Claire stopped walking.
Daniel immediately moved beside her.
Vincent noticed.
His expression darkened.
Then he looked at Claire.
Everything else disappeared from his face.
"Claire."
She tightened her grip on her handbag.
"How did you find me?"
"Through the authorities. I reported what I'd learned about Isabella and my father. They told me you might be in danger, and your attorney agreed to this brief meeting if you consented."
Claire glanced at Evelyn, who stood near the station entrance.
Evelyn nodded.
"You don't have to stay," she said.
Claire looked at Vincent.
For three years, she'd waited for him to choose her.
Now he stood in front of her.
And she felt almost nothing.
"I have five minutes," she said.
Vincent swallowed.
"Thank you."
Daniel stepped back but remained close.
Vincent looked at him.
"Who is he?"
Claire's eyes narrowed.
"That's none of your business."
Vincent lowered his head.
"You're right."
The admission startled her.
He had rarely admitted she was right during their marriage.
"Claire, I saw the hospital records."
She looked away.
"I know."
"I know about the baby."
Her throat tightened.
"Please don't."
His voice broke.
"We were going to have a child."
Claire stared at him.
"No, Vincent. I was going to have a child. You were too busy making sure Isabella got her cake."
He flinched.
"I deserved that."
"You deserve worse."
"I know."
She looked at him.
He took a step closer.
"I should have been there."
"Yes."
"I should have listened when you called."
"Yes."
"I should have remembered your allergy."
Claire laughed bitterly.
"You didn't need to remember, Vincent. I told you. Right there in our kitchen. I told you exactly what would happen."
His eyes filled with tears.
"I know."
"And you called me dramatic."
He covered his face for a moment.
When he lowered his hands, he looked destroyed.
"I went to the hospital," he whispered. "I spoke to the doctor who treated you. She explained how serious the reaction was."
Claire's voice turned cold.
"Did she also explain that I called an ambulance while you were upstairs with another woman?"
Vincent closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"Good."
She stepped backward.
"Then there's nothing else to discuss."
"Claire, wait."
She turned.
Vincent did something she'd never imagined.
He dropped to his knees.
Right there on the concrete sidewalk.
In front of Evelyn.
In front of Daniel.
In front of two police officers.
The most feared casino owner in Las Vegas knelt before the woman he'd treated as an afterthought.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Claire stared down at him.
Years ago, the sight might have healed something inside her.
Now it only reminded her how much pain it had taken for him to understand.
"Get up, Vincent."
"I love you."
"Then why did I have to lose everything before you noticed me?"
He couldn't answer.
Claire's tears finally fell.
"I begged you to spend one sunrise with me. One. And you told me it was a waste of time."
Vincent lowered his head.
"I know."
"You made me feel like loving you was something I had to apologize for."
He began crying silently.
Claire wiped her cheeks.
"And now you expect me to come back because you're finally sorry?"
"No," Vincent whispered. "I know I don't deserve that."
She took a breath.
"Then sign the divorce papers."
His expression crumpled.
"Claire—"
"Sign them."
For several seconds, he remained motionless.
Then he nodded.
"I will."
Claire turned to leave.
But Vincent spoke again.
"Your father's death wasn't an accident."
She froze.
Daniel immediately moved forward.
Vincent slowly stood.
"I discovered evidence my father was involved. I'm cooperating with investigators."
Claire looked at him.
"How much do you know about Robert Bennett?"
Vincent's expression changed.
"What do you mean?"
Claire hesitated.
Then she asked:
"Did your father ever tell you that Elena Moretti was engaged to Robert before you were born?"
Vincent stared.
"Yes."
"Did he tell you what happened at St. Catherine's Hospital?"
His face drained of color.
"What happened?"
Claire looked toward Daniel.
Daniel shook his head slightly.
But Claire was tired of secrets.
She faced her husband.
"Vincent, there's a possibility the man who raised you isn't your biological father."
Vincent stepped backward.
"What?"
Before she could explain further, a black sedan screeched to a stop across the street.
Daniel grabbed Claire's arm.
"Inside. Now!"
A man emerged from the car.
He raised a handgun.
And shouted:
"MORETTI!"
May you like
Vincent turned.
The first shot shattered the police station window.
