Lucy leaned in closer. "Oh, by the way, let's exchange numbers. I'll come to you next time I have stuff to sell."
She gave me a slow once-over. "And honestly, you should really take care of yourself. Your skin is awful. Not a drop of color in your face. What man would want to come home to that? I'll send you the info for my aesthetics clinic."
She tilted her head, as if remembering something amusing. "My sugar daddy says his wife is exactly like that. Saggy skin, no effort. Says it kills his appetite just looking at her."
Since getting pregnant, I'd been paying for every prenatal appointment out of my own pocket.
To give my baby a better life, I didn't dare rest. I spent every day hauling my authentication light from one appointment to the next.
That morning, standing in front of the vanity mirror, the paleness of my own face had startled me.
I didn't know how I managed to hold myself together long enough to leave that villa.
When I got home, Lester wasn't back yet.
I forced the corners of my mouth upward and sent him a text: When are you coming home?
He never replied. By the time he walked through the door, it was the middle of the night.
When he saw me, something flickered across his face, but he recovered instantly, crossing the room to pull me into his arms. "Babe, it's so late. Why aren't you in bed?"
"There was an issue with a project at work. I was stuck at the office this whole time. Forgot to give you a heads-up."
His expression was perfectly composed. Not a single thing out of place.
But the moment he drew close, I caught it on his clothes: the unmistakable scent of Lucy's rose perfume.
My heart went cold. I stepped sideways, pulling away from his touch. "Were you really busy with work, or were you busy taking care of someone else?"
Lester's face stiffened. Then irritation creased his brow. "Babe, what is it this time?"
"How many times have I told you? I don't like it when you're this clingy."
"Can you be a little more independent? Don't you have your own things to do? What's with the constant suspicion?"
The same attitude. Always the same. As if I were the one in the wrong.
Then, as if only just noticing how deathly pale I looked, his voice softened a fraction. "Come on, sweetheart. I picked up some bubble tea for you on the way home. Your favorite. I've had an exhausting day. Let's not do this tonight, okay?"
He pressed the cup into my hands and disappeared into the bathroom.
In all our years of marriage, Lester almost never brought me anything.
This was the first time.
My phone chimed.
Lucy had posted on social media.
All I said was I wanted bubble tea, and my sugar daddy bought me every single flavor from the shop. This is what it feels like to be someone's whole world!
The photo showed three full cases of drinks.
I thought my heart had already gone numb. But the air still left my lungs like someone had squeezed it out.
I stood there clutching that cup of tea, long since gone cold, and the tears came faster than I could stop them.
I took a sip. It wasn't sweet. It was bitter, the kind of bitter that burrowed straight into your chest.
Two sips in, a sharp, dragging pain tore through my lower abdomen.
I doubled over instantly, my hand flying to my stomach.
My baby was in there. Three months along. My only reason to keep going.
The pain came in waves, each one worse than the last. I couldn't stay on my feet. My voice came out broken. "Lester! Lester!"
The sound of running water cut off. He walked out of the bathroom, saw me crumpled on the floor, and his tone was still laced with impatience. "What now? Stop being so dramatic. I told you, I'm exhausted."
My voice shook. "My stomach... something's wrong with the baby. Please, take me to the hospital. Please..."
That finally shook him. He moved toward me on instinct, reaching down.
But in the next second, his phone screamed to life.
Lester froze mid-reach. He looked at me, trembling and curled on the floor, and hesitated for one beat.
Then he answered the call. "Lucy, what's wrong?"
