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.

baby inside me

did I have to fear if she could shamelessly be my home? So, I sat

conversation. “Tastes good,

a smile. “Bryant’s cooking is always great.

I just wanted to mark my territory in

fleeting glance at Bryant. “Never knew you

you’re eating?” Bryant scoffed

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

fork tightened until my knuckles turned white, nails digging into my So, the pasta that I

flesh.

recalled asking him where he learned to cook on our anniversary night,

Chapter 17

whole

minute, what was he thinking about? Margaret? Or the

you have ended up

up your mess? Bryant, I didn’t know you had a thing for being a rebound guy and

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