Chapter 4

Five days later, on their fifth wedding anniversary, Damian, looking secretive and pleased with himself, brought Penelope to an amusement park. She lifted her gaze, taking it all in as a strange haze of memories washed over her. This was the same place they had come to when she was nine, the day she first discovered her father, Noah, was cheating. She had been a small, scared, helpless little girl. She had cried into Damian's shoulder for what felt like hours, telling him she didn't want her parents to divorce, but she also didn't want her mother to be left in the dark and hurt. Damian had wiped her nose with the sleeve of his shirt and smiled. "Then just pretend you don't know. Pretend you didn't see anything. Penelope, some things are better left for the grown-ups to deal with. Sometimes, playing dumb makes life a little easier." That day, they skipped school and spent the whole day here. Now, as she turned to look at the man beside her, for the first time, he felt like a stranger. Over the years, Damian had taken her to many of the places they'd visited as children, but never here. Because he knew this place always reminded her of her parents' divorce. It had become a silent, untouchable territory between them. Yet here they were, on a day meant to be special, standing in the one place he had always avoided. "Penelope, do you remember what I told you that day?" Damian's lips curved into a smile as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes brimming with staged tenderness. Her throat tightened, her eyes stinging. She met his gaze and forced out each word. "That playing dumb makes life easier?" Damian pressed a kiss to her forehead, looking pleased. "Honey, you've got such a good memory. I'd actually forgotten what I said that day." Penelope's heart gave a cold twist. No, he hadn't forgotten—not a chance. He just wasn't sure if she had heard Jasmine's voice messages that night. This was his way of reminding her that if she pretended not to see or hear, then nothing had to change. She would still be Mrs. Ingram. But Damian must have forgotten that her parents had divorced anyway. Her mother, Helen Robertson, would never turn a blind eye to betrayal, and neither would she. In the days that followed, Damian uncharacteristically cut back on working late, sometimes even bringing work home instead. His phone stopped ringing at all the wrong moments as well. Of course, Penelope didn't fool herself into thinking Damian was suddenly invested in their marriage once more. Quietly, she continued working with her lawyers on the divorce and finalizing her plan to leave in a week. Once her plane ticket was booked and her temporary housing abroad confirmed, an uninvited guest appeared at the door. The sight of the twins standing there made Penelope's breath catch. Damian stepped in behind them, holding their hands. "A friend's kids. They asked me at the last minute to watch them. Since you've always loved children, I thought I'd bring them over. Honey, you're not mad, are you?" Her lips pressed into a pale line. He had actually brought his illegitimate children here in broad daylight. She wanted to send them straight back out, but when the two little ones clung to her and called her "Mrs. Ingram" in their small, sweet voices, her heart softened despite herself. If she hadn't lost her baby years ago, they would be their age now. Her eyes burned, and she swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat. Hearing no objection from her, Damian's expression eased. "Penelope, stay with the kids for a bit. I've got an important meeting." Then, he bent down and spoke to them in a firmer tone. "Mr. Ingram has work to do. You listen to Mrs. Ingram, and no misbehaving, understand?" The way he emphasized "Mrs. Ingram" carried a clear warning. The children nodded obediently, each taking one of Penelope's hands. Only then did Damian disappear into his study. The moment the door clicked shut, the sweet looks on the children's faces vanished. "Hmph! You're the one who keeps making my mom cry! Bad woman!" "I know who you are! You stole my daddy! You're the homewrecker! My daddy doesn't even love you!" Penelope almost laughed at the absurdity. "I'm the homewrecker? Why don't you go ask Jasmine if she has a marriage certificate? Whose name is on your birth records? She's the one sneaking around and stealing someone else's husband!" They were just children. A few sentences from her, and their faces flushed bright red. Not wanting to waste another word, she turned to go back to her room. "Bad woman! You can't talk about my mom like that! Go die!" "Yeah! Anyone who hurts my mom should die!" Before she could process the words, two small bodies slammed into her. Penelope pitched forward, tumbling down the stairs.