Chapter 17

Every move felt like a slap across my face. My heart ached with the sting of it. I had played out scenes like that in my head over and over again. Yet, standing in my home, I couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine.

“Jane, you’re awake?” Margaret turned to see me and greeted me with a smile, “Come on, try some of Bry’s cooking. It’s to die for.”

With that, she carried a dish to the table, acting every bit the hostess.

I took a deep breath, stepped past her, and asked Bryant straight up, “Why is she here?”

Finishing up in the kitchen, Bryant removed his apron and said coldly, “She’ll be gone after this meal.”

“You want me to leave, huh?” Margaret glared at him.

“Margaret, take the hint! Stop stirring trouble,” Bryant’s tone was icy, his patience wearing thin.

“Whatever,” Margaret muttered and pulled me to join the meal as if the person who had been crying and begging my husband to divorce me wasn’t her and as if she wasn’t the one trying to whisk my husband away

Bryant’s cooking was indeed excellent, a full spread that was a feast for the senses.

but the baby inside me needed

I have to fear if she could shamelessly be

make conversation. “Tastes good,

“Bryant’s cooking is always great. Whenever he’s

just wanted to mark my

at Bryant. “Never knew

even shut up when you’re eating?” Bryant scoffed and served me some ribs.

me, “Do you know why he can cook? I taught him, especially tomato sauce pasta, my favorite. He puts his heart into

nails digging into my So, the pasta

flesh.

asking him where he learned to cook

Chapter 17

a whole

he thinking about? Margaret? Or the memories of

have ended up with such a catch?” Margaret

and sneered, “Oh, is that why? Your marriage didn’t work out, so you thought he’d clean up your mess? Bryant, I didn’t know you

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