My husband divorced me, remarried his lover when I was 9 months pregnant, and said: “I couldn’t stay with a woman with a big belly like you.” He didn’t know that my dad owned a company worth $40 million.

Grant was already there when I arrived.

He looked… refreshed.

Crisp navy suit.

Hair perfectly styled.

The relaxed confidence people wear when they believe they’ve already won.

Standing beside him was a woman in a cream dress and high heels.

Her manicured hand rested on his arm like it belonged there.

Tessa Monroe.

I recognized her instantly.

She worked at Grant’s office.

The same coworker he once told me not to worry about.
The same woman whose “holiday party invitation” I skipped because Grant insisted I was “too tired to attend.”

Grant glanced at my stomach and grimaced.

Not concern.

Not guilt.

Disgust.

“I couldn’t stay with a woman with a big belly like you,” he said flatly.

The words carried farther than he probably intended.

Several people nearby turned to look.

“It’s depressing,” he added. “I need my life back.”

The baby kicked sharply inside me, as if reacting to the cruelty in his voice.

Tessa let out a soft laugh.

“Grant really tried,” she said sweetly. “But men have needs.”

My throat tightened.

“You’re divorcing me when I’m about to give birth,” I said quietly.