Too Late To Beg

For three years, Tamsin Ward believed her marriage was unbreakable. That illusion shatters the moment her husband’s best friend, Isla Parker, returns and quietly begins inserting herself into everything Tamsin once thought was hers.

By the time Tamsin realizes what’s happening, her marriage already feels impossible to stay in.

When Tamsin asks for a divorce, her husband, James Whitmore is blindsided. He refuses, insisting that he cannot live without her.

Desperate and cornered, Tamsin seeks out the most powerful divorce attorney in the country. What she doesn’t expect is to come face-to-face with Leo Price, the first man she ever loved, and the one who vanished from her life without explanation.

Tamsin wants nothing to do with Leo. But James and his powerful family leave her no choice.

Leo agrees to take her case under one condition: she must date him for three months. No secrets. No distance. No pretending the past never happened.

As James tightens his grip and old feelings resurface, Tamsin finds herself trapped between the man who refuses to let her go and the man who once walked away.

TAMSIN

James was two hours late.

I stood in the living room, watching the candles gutter in their holders. Condensation wept down the champagne bottle. The ice had long since melted.

Seven o'clock had come and gone.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Tammy." That's what he'd said when I invited him. When I told him I had something special planned.

It was nine o'clock now.

I dialed his number for the third time, thumb hovering over the call button. Please don't be drunk. Please don't make me regret this.

Two rings.

"Tammy, dear." His voice came through, rushed and breathless. "There's been an emergency. I'm at the hospital."

Cold flooded through me. "What? Are you hurt? James?"

The line went dead.

"James?" I said to no one.

I grabbed my keys.

Ten minutes later, I was white-knuckling the steering wheel toward the hospital.

Today was supposed to be perfect.

The pregnancy test sat in my purse, wrapped in tissue paper inside a small box. I hadn't looked at it since this afternoon. Didn't need to. I already knew what it said.

Pregnant.

After more than three years of trying, waiting, and learning not to hope too much.

I'd passed out during rounds this morning. Woke up in the ER with a colleague pressing test results into my hand and a smile that said she knew before I did.

A little over a month along.

I'd spent the afternoon planning. His favorite meal. Candles. Champagne for him, sparkling cider for me.

I barely remembered parking. Left the car at an angle, half blocking a loading zone, and ran.

"Doctor Tamsin!"

I nearly took down a nurse in the corridor. "Sorry, Sandra. My husband. Have you seen him?"

"Mr. Whitmore? I saw him heading into Ward Eight." She pointed.

"Thank you."

The hallway blurred past. Familiar faces. People calling my name. I didn't stop.

At Ward Eight,