Orville must’ve seen me zoning out because I felt his hand gently reached for mine.
“Presley, can you stop already? We’re doing this for your own good. Besides, Blaire’s still a McDowell. And what’s done is done. Wouldn’t it be better if we all just lived peacefully together?”
I stared at the man I had loved for 20 freaking years.
‘Live peacefully? Together?! What the hell is he planning?!
‘What, he gets to enjoy two women? Me as the dutiful wife, and Blaire as his charming mistress? Or maybe he wants no labels at all. Just two women under one roof, worshipping him like some divine gift to womankind?’
I opened my mouth, only to find that my voice had become unbearably hoarse.
“Orville… are you saying our baby died for nothing? And now you want me to share my husband with the woman who killed our baby?!”
Before I could even finish, he cut me off—annoyed.
“Presley, it’s in the past. The baby’s gone. Talking about it now won’t change anything.
“That baby just… didn’t make it. He wasn’t strong enough to live. That’s not on anyone.”
I had never seen him like this. Cold. Unbothered. Like it was just some small thing that happened.