“Please,” she said, quiet but firm, “don’t do this here.”
A manager hurried over, alarmed by the tension.
“Is there a problem?”
“No,” Lily answered immediately, too quickly. “I’ll send another server.”
Vanessa pushed her chair back, cheeks burning with humiliation. “So that’s your wife,” she said, not caring who heard. “And she’s pregnant.”
Chris didn’t move, because the truth had already punched a hole through him.
Vanessa’s voice shook with fury. “I’m not doing this,” she snapped, grabbing her purse. “I will not be embarrassed like this.”
She walked away in a sharp rhythm of heels and anger, leaving Chris alone at the most expensive table in the room, surrounded by soft music and sparkling glassware that suddenly felt like props in a life he didn’t deserve.
Chris waited only long enough to see Lily disappear through the kitchen doors before he followed.
The staff tried to stop him, but he didn’t care about rules anymore, not when he had spent seven months pretending everything was fine.
The kitchen was heat and noise and movement, and near the back, half hidden beside stacked crates, Lily sat on a stool with her face in her hands.
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