I stood up, ready to answer him, but Julian’s hand found mine under the table, squeezing it gently to signal me to calm down. “You should watch what you say, Chloe.” Julian’s voice was no longer calm; it was sharp as a knife. “Especially in your condition. For the sake of the baby you’re carrying, you should practice a little karma.” He paused briefly before continuing. “And as for who’s raising it—who? I think you and Miguel know perfectly well how that works.”
She gave Miguel a piercing, meaningful look. Under that gaze, Miguel flinched and immediately lowered his head. Chloe turned red with fury, opened her mouth to reply, but Miguel grabbed her arm tightly. “That’s enough, Chloe, let’s go. Don’t make a scene here,” he muttered through gritted teeth, clearly desperate to get out of that situation. Chloe shot me one last hateful look before letting herself be dragged toward the exit. Their figures disappeared behind the heavy restaurant doors.
The air around our table grew thick, almost unbreathable. Dinner was completely ruined. After they left, I lost my appetite entirely. Chloe’s words pierced my chest like shards of glass. I knew the truth. I had the DNA results to prove it, but confronting her audacity, her cruelty, still hurt deeply. My pride in my new job was completely overshadowed by the humiliation. Seeing me silent, Julian sighed softly, called the waiter, paid the bill, and said, “Let’s go home.” During the drive back to Tribeca, I didn’t say a word.
I stared out the window, barely seeing anything. The lights of Times Square flashed by, blurry, but my mind was stuck in a loop. Miguel Ichloé’s face, her arrogance, her insults—the tears started falling again. Why am I so weak? Why couldn’t I stand up to her and answer back? When we got to the apartment, Julián put Lily to bed and then sat down next to me on the sofa. He offered me a glass of warm water. “Don’t let what she said get to you,” he said.
I just wanted to provoke you. I shook my head, my throat tight. He’s wrong. I’m such a fool. I was so naive. I trusted Miguel blindly, and he and his lover played me for years. And today, even with them right in front of me, I couldn’t do anything. The rage I’d held back for so long exploded. I covered my face with my hands and wept uncontrollably. I felt pathetic. Julián didn’t say anything; he simply pulled me close and let me rest my head on his chest.
Leave a Comment