I turned to Bianca, my jaw tightening. Something didn’t sit right. Her face was pale, her lips trembling—yet it reminded me too much of before, the same theatrics she pulled the last time she thought I was drifting away.
“Are you playing with me?” I asked, my voice low, dangerous.
Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “What? Of course not! Why would I ever play with you?” Her voice broke, almost offended. “Aldrin, my tummy really hurts. Why would I lie about that?”
I leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know. Maybe because you saw me talking to Amara? Is that it? Are you trying to get my attention because I was busy with her, or did you think I was actually caring for her again? If that is, stop it. I know you!”
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re getting mad at me—because of Amara? Because you thought I was making this up? Well, I’m not, so are you serious right now?” She raised her voice, sitting up straighter despite the supposed pain. “Aldrin, she’s not even here. And you’re thinking of her? What about me? What about our baby?”