Her laughter rang in my ears like sirens and something in me snapped. I stepped forward and slapped her, hard.
She staggered back dramatically, then fell to the ground with a wail.
“Evelyn, I didn’t mean to keep this from you! But I’m pregnant! How could you hit me like that?”
Huge, dramatic tears rolled down her cheeks. And before I could even process her performance, I felt a violent shove from behind. I lost my balance and my belly slammed into the cold, hard floor.
Beckett grabbed my arm and yanked me up. I was still dazed, still trying to process the shock, when he yelled in my face.
“Are you out of your mind?! How could you push Delaney? She’s pregnant!”
I stared at him, stunned. Before I could speak, Delaney cried out, “Beckett, please don’t fight with Evelyn because of me. I shouldn’t have asked you to come to the appointment with me. This is my fault. As long as the baby’s okay, she can slap me.”
She looked like a tragic heroine—eyes glassy, lower lip trembling.
Beckett’s face twisted with anger. His voice was low and sharp when he turned to me.
“You’ve crossed the line, Evelyn,” he said coldly. “Apologize to Delaney.”
The sound of it shocked even me. I laughed. Bitterly.