I laughed mockingly, finished all the examinations by myself, and sat quietly in the hallway waiting for the results.
On Instagram, that esports girl streamer posted a new picture.
The restaurant lighting was soft and close. The Zion who should have been sitting beside me at the hospital was sitting across from her, looking focused.
The caption under it read, [Thanks to Brother Zion, I wasn’t dragged off by my own mom to marry an old guy. I’ll love him forever and stay with him.]
My throat tightened. I bit the inside of my cheek, placed a hand on my belly, and slowly rubbed it.
“Baby.”
I asked calmly, “If one day Daddy and Mommy get a divorce… will you blame Mommy?”
The baby inside me shifted, very lightly.
I already knew my own answer.
After leaving the hospital, I headed to the office by myself.
I started going through the shares, sorting the projects, and splitting the groups and resources under my control.
Anything I could settle clearly, I handled right away; anything I couldn’t finish yet, I placed into lists, noted with risks, numbers, and plans for division, packed together, and sent to the lawyer that Grandma Ravenna contacted for me.