My pulse pounded so hard I thought it might wake Lily. “You’re bringing her here,” I said, forcing the words out through a throat that felt stitched shut. “While I’m still… bleeding?”
Ethan shrugged. “Don’t be dramatic, Claire. It’s been three months.”
Three months. As if my body hadn’t been ripped open. As if my nights weren’t measured in screams I swallowed so I wouldn’t scare the baby.
I stared at them both, waiting for the punchline. Madison’s eyes flicked down to Lily, then back to me. “She’s cute,” she said. “But you look… tired.”
That did it. Something inside me didn’t crack—it went quiet. Like a breaker flipped.
Ethan tossed a manila envelope onto the coffee table. “I already filed. Sign tonight. I’m not doing a long fight.”
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
