My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge
Chapter 273: Two Husbands

Chapter 273: Two Husbands

Greg returned to Cammy’s hospital room just as Aarya arrived to check on Richard, who had already been transferred to a VVIP suite down the hall.

The door to Cammy’s room was slightly ajar, and as he stepped in, he spotted Eve tidying up, folding her things with care and methodical calm.

"Eve," Greg said gently, drawing her attention. "Thank you—again. For everything. For staying with her."

Eve smiled warmly. "Of course. You know I’d never leave her side when she needs me."

Then, with a knowing glint in her eye, she added, "Harry’s with Cassey at my place. He practically shoved me out the door when he heard about Cammy. I think he’s enjoying playing house."

Greg chuckled, but there was genuine affection in his voice. "That’s good. She deserves someone like that. And Harry... he’s solid."

"Yeah," Eve said with a grin, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "To be honest, I’m starting to get jealous. Those two are inseparable—even when I’m home. But you know what?"

She walked over and gave Greg a soft, reassuring squeeze on the arm. "I think happiness is contagious. I’ve got a good feeling it’s your turn now."

She glanced meaningfully at Cammy, then winked before walking out, leaving a trail of quiet encouragement in her wake.

The moment the door clicked shut behind Eve, Greg found himself swallowing the sudden weight in his throat.

He turned slowly toward Cammy, who was propped up in bed, her features pale but peaceful. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward and unsure—like a man stripped bare.

"I guess... it’s just us now," he murmured.

Cammy’s lips curled into a soft smile. "Yes. Just us." She patted the empty space beside her, the sheets slightly wrinkled where Eve had been sitting. "Come here. Sit with me."

Greg hesitated only for a breath before crossing the room, drawn to her like a magnet. The silence was thick with unspoken emotion—regret, hope, fear, longing.

He sat beside her, their knees brushing ever so slightly. The moment crackled with something tender and fragile, like glass on the edge of shattering or sunlight breaking through after a storm.

Cammy shifted slightly on the bed, her frail body leaning into Greg, closing the distance between them. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

The embrace hit Greg like a tidal wave—raw, unexpected, and filled with a longing so deep it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

Even though he had kissed her earlier, even though the truth had come out, there was something jarring about being this close again after the chaos, after everything that had torn them apart.

He hesitated for a beat, but then—finally—he let himself melt into her arms. He tightened his hold, gently pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I missed you so damn much," Cammy whispered, her voice trembling, her tears soaking into his shirt.

"I missed you too," Greg murmured, his throat tightening with emotion. "Every single day."

Cammy let out a shaky sigh, the kind that sounded like a quiet storm trying to stay calm. "Greg... I know you have work, and you’re always busy with the business and your father’s affairs, but... when I give birth, please..."

She clutched at him tighter. "Please promise me you’ll make time for our baby. And bring her to see me. Even just once a month. I don’t want her growing up not knowing who I am..."

Greg gently pulled away just enough to see her face, alarm flashing in his eyes. "Wait—what are you talking about? Why would I need to bring her to you? Where the hell do you think you’re going?"

Cammy gave a hollow laugh—forced and brittle. A pathetic attempt to cover the pain she couldn’t hide. "To prison, Greg. You know that. Grace might get me parole, but that won’t happen overnight. I broke the law. I took Dylan. They’re not going to just let me walk away..."

"No. No—absolutely not," Greg snapped, his voice suddenly sharp, filled with a fire that made Cammy’s eyes widen.

He stood up, only to kneel beside her bed and hold her hands with a fierce grip. "I won’t let them take you back there. Do you hear me? That place nearly broke you. I will do whatever it takes—pull every string, call in every favor, turn the whole damn legal system upside down if I have to.

But when you leave this hospital, you’re coming with me. The only place you’re going is my house. Our home."

Cammy’s brows furrowed slightly. "Your home?" she asked softly. "Not... not my apartment?"

Greg smiled for the first time in minutes, the kind of smile that reached his eyes and shimmered with purpose. "Yes. My home. You, Dylan, and our baby. That’s our family. That’s our future."

He kissed her knuckles, slowly, reverently, like a vow being sealed. "And first thing tomorrow morning, I’m registering our marriage. No more delays. No more what-ifs. From tomorrow on... you’re officially mine, Cammy. Mrs. Cross."

"Wait... what are you saying?" Cammy’s voice cracked as she pulled her hand from Greg’s, her eyes wide, filled with conflict.

"I’m still married to Ric. I... I can’t just walk away from him. Not now. Not after everything. He’s in jail because of me. I dragged him into this. I can’t abandon him like that. That would make me no better than—"

Greg stood abruptly, his jaw tightening. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm—but there was a steel edge beneath it. "And who said anything about a divorce?"

Cammy blinked, confused. "Then what—?"

"Ric never registered your marriage. Not once. Not even when he had the chance. You’ve been carrying the weight of a marriage that never legally existed. He said, he wanted you to see him first as a man and not a friend before he can register it without guilt."

Cammy’s breath caught. "What...?"

Greg’s expression softened, and the corner of his lips curled into a teasing, lopsided smile. "So now, Miss Camilla Watson—what we have here are two unregistered marriages. Two men, two husbands, two pieces of paper, zero legality."

He leaned in, voice dropping low and intense. "So the real question is... who do you want to be your husband?"