When Love Turns to Ash Novel – Chapter 10
Ben arrived at the Hamptons estate where the wedding was supposed to take place. The ceremony was already late, and to his surprise, it hadn’t started yet. Guests milled about, whispering. The tension in the air was unmistakable.
He spotted Jax near the altar, which was decorated with absurd perfection—white roses, silk draping, polished pews. But Jax wasn’t looking at the crowd. His gaze was fixed on his phone. He looked tense, distracted, thumb hovering over the screen, glancing again and again toward the entrance. Waiting.
Ben didn’t need to guess. He knew Jax was trying to call me. But my phone was still off.
Ben watched him hesitate, pull back, hesitate again.
Those final words I’d left Jax with—“I wish you all the happiness you deserve”—must have started to sink in. Not a threat. Not a cry for attention. Just a final goodbye.
He was starting to understand now. I wasn’t just skipping the wedding. I was gone.
Then came the noise—the sharp, collective gasp of people turning toward the bridal suite. Someone shouted. A bridesmaid screamed.
Chloe Davenport had collapsed.
She was on the floor in her elaborate gown, her veil tangled, her makeup smudging as a doctor guest rushed to her side. Whispers turned into a hush.
The doctor knelt beside Chloe, quickly assessing her, pressing fingers to her pulse, checking her breathing.
“She’s pregnant,” the doctor finally announced, her voice low but cutting clearly through the silence. “Far along. This kind of compression garment… it’s cutting off circulation. She needs to be taken to a hospital.”
Pregnant?
Jax froze. The room seemed to tilt.
That wasn’t possible. He knew Chloe. They’d been together, yes, but the pregnancy had always been part of their staged performance—a ploy to push me away. They’d laughed about it. Pretended. Faked it.
But this?
“She’s at least seven, maybe eight months,” the doctor continued.
Seven or eight?
Jax’s world cracked open. The math didn’t add up. He hadn’t been with her that long. It wasn’t his.
The realization swept through him like cold poison.
Chloe’s eyes fluttered open. Her first words were not of fear for the baby. Not concern for the guests. But panic.
“My dress… is it… is the padding—?”
She saw the revealing tear in the gown. She saw the doctor holding the compression padding, now removed. She saw Jax’s face.
And her own face crumbled in terror.
Jax dropped to one knee beside her, his voice low and deadly.
“Chloe. You’re pregnant.”
She tried to laugh it off, a feeble smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Pregnant? Don’t be silly, darling. Just… pre-wedding nerves. That doctor must be mistaken—”
He cut her off, his tone glacial. “The wedding is off.”
The words were final. Heavy.
Chloe reached for him, desperately now. “No, Jax. It’s our scare-tactic baby, remember? We said… we joked it was real—maybe it was too convincing—”
But her voice trembled beneath his fury.
He grabbed her wrist, firm and unrelenting. “Don’t lie to me.”
His eyes searched hers, dark and furious. “Whose child is it, Chloe?”
She couldn’t speak. Not convincingly. Her silence screamed the truth.
And the guests around them, silent and stunned, knew it too.