Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 387

"No need."

"This isn't helping, sir. Waiting out here won't solve anything. If Miss Vaughan isn't coming out, maybe you should go to the hospital and get yourself looked at first."

Victor lifted his gaze, and the coldness in his eyes cut through the air.

Kemp clamped his mouth shut immediately, not daring to press the issue any further.

Suddenly, Kemp caught sight of a figure outside the car.

"Miss... Miss Vaughan's coming out."

At those words, Victor turned his head, his dark eyes locking on the woman stepping out of the house.

Isadora wore a crisp white blouse tucked into a grey fitted pencil skirt, the fabric hugging her slender waist just right. Though it had been over three months, her stomach was still as flat as ever—there was no sign at all that she was expecting.

Her long, softly curled hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall, catching the gentle breeze. The effect was striking, making her seem both delicate and radiant.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Victor pushed open the car door and got out.

Isadora looked at him, leaning there against the car.

It was only then she noticed how bad he looked. His face was shockingly pale.

Back in the basement, her feelings had been a tangled mess.

She was angry at Victor.

She'd kept hoping she'd see a text, some kind of message, even just a call from him. She hadn't needed him to show up at the press conference—she just wanted to know he was there for her, somewhere.

But when she took the stage, there was nothing. Not a single word.

The disappointment had hit her harder than any of the reporters' relentless questions. Victor's absence had left her reeling, an ache so sharp it felt like her heart was tearing open, bleeding out in all the places no one could see.

The more she cared, the more fragile she became.

Isadora never wanted to feel like this again.

It hurt too much.

They stood there for a few seconds—just a handful of heartbeats, but it felt like an eternity.

The glow from the porch light stretched their shadows long across the driveway.

Isadora's eyes burned with tears, her voice tight with emotion.

"I wanted to stand up there and tell everyone—the father of my child is you. Victor Fitzgerald, CEO of the Fitzgerald Group."

"I wanted to say we're getting married. I wanted all those people who laughed at me to be jealous for once. But where were you?"

Victor's eyes stung with raw regret, his voice rough with guilt. "Isadora, this is all my fault."

"I should have been there. I let you face everything alone. I promised I'd protect you, and I failed."

Isadora had meant to say all this to hurt him.

But hearing the pain in Victor's voice, her tears only fell faster, streaming down her cheeks.

Victor reached out, brushing a trembling finger over the tears on her face. The heat of them seemed to burn right through him, making his heart ache.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

"Don't cry. If you need to hit me, go ahead. If you need to yell or scream or anything—just tell me. I'll do whatever you need, as long as it helps."