"I'm in love with another man." That was my congratulations for bringing our child into the world. I shifted on the mattress, wincing as a sharp ache shot through my lower half. My arms were heavy, trembling from exhaustion, but I didn’t dare loosen my grip on the tiny, warm bundle resting against my chest. She let out a soft, mewling sound, her little nose scrunching as she slept. I brushed a thumb over her cheek, a tired smile pulling at my lips. Julian had walked in five minutes ago looking immaculate. Not a hair out of place, his designer coat brushed free of lint, a stark contrast to my sweat-dampened hospital gown and bird nest hair. He didn’t walk toward the bed. He stopped near the foot of it, keeping a deliberate distance between us. “You’re finally here,” I breathed, the relief heavy in my voice. “The doctor said we can go home tomorrow. She’s perfect, come look at her.” He didn’t move. His hands were stuffed deep into his pants pockets. “I’m not going home with you,
آخر تحديث : 2026-09-29 اقرأ المزيد