He froze, caught off guard, then fumbled for an excuse.
“Babe, I didn’t mean to. I just—”
“You just forgot,” I cut him off. My voice was calm, but sharp. “Because it’s not important to you. Right?”
Sabrina's POV
I let out a bitter laugh and added, “Of course. Those crab rangoons aren’t for me because they’re Barbara’s favorite. To you, she’s always the one that matters most.”
My voice grew colder as I went on.
“Remember last year? You had that huge client meeting, but Barbara insisted on tagging along. Then she accused the client of looking at her funny, and without a word, you punched him. The company lost tens of millions over that deal. In the end, it was I, an eight-month pregnant woman, who knelt on my knees, begging the client to forgive you in the summer heat. I collapsed from heatstroke, went into labor early, and nearly lost my life because of that. And where was your so-called ‘friend’ then? Hiding, right?”
Not letting him interrupt, I quickly added, “We’ve been married for four years, Phyll. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to clean up the messes you two created? You can spoil her all you want, but I’m done covering for you. Let’s get a divorce.”