Tears threatened to spill over, but I swallowed them back. I had been through worse. I had to be stronger than this.
I looked around, the clinking glasses and murmured conversations now distant noise. I had to tell him. He needed to know the truth. But not like this—not when he was with her.
My hands trembled as I stood from the table. I could feel their eyes on me, watching, waiting to see if I would crumble.
But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
I sat on the edge of the bed, numb and staring into nothing. Louis’ words echoed in my mind, their sharp edges cutting deeper with each replay.
Useless. Pretty and useless.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the faintest flicker of life beneath my fingertips. The child Louis had wanted for so long, the one that was supposed to bring us closer together, felt more like a burden now than a blessing.
How could I raise a child with a man who treated me like this? How could I let my baby grow up in a world where its father cherished someone else more than its mother?