Noah froze outside the slightly opened guest suite door, his hand half raised to knock. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, he only wanted to check on her. But the moment Jossy's voice spilled into the hallway, he couldn't move. Each word cut into him deeper than the last.
Her voice was low and restrained at first, then raw and loud.
"Do you know, Hazel, my miscarriage over a year ago… that was all Damien. It wasn't an accident as I made you believe."
Noah's stomach turned. His grip tightened against the doorframe.
She went on, the words tumbling out between broken breaths. About being silenced. About the night she baked Damien's favorite cake and waited for him, only to be repaid with betrayal. About the bruise that came from talking to another man. The argument he himself caused. He felt guilty.
Noah felt sick. He knew Damien was reckless, arrogant, and self indulgent, but this? To do that to her? To his own wife?
Quietly, Noah stepped back from the doorway, retreating down the hall and into the study. He sank into the chair but couldn't sit still, his hands restless against the armrests. Jossy's words kept replaying in his mind. The grief, the loneliness, the way she still sounded like she was blaming herself.
He pressed his palms together, lowering his head. What could he do for her? How could he erase even a fraction of that pain? He wanted to storm back down the hall, take her hand, tell her she wasn't alone anymore. But he knew Jossy. Direct pity would only make her retreat into herself. She needed something else. Something that would remind her of life beyond the cage Damien had built around her.
Something to remind her she was more than Damien's wife. And Noah knew exactly what she needed.