I had to admit, he and Rachel worked together seamlessly. From the day I joined the company for three years, they maintained a distant, professional relationship.
Even while watching Lorenzo kiss me passionately at our wedding, Rachel showed no emotion whatsoever. The only time I saw her visibly shaken was when I shared the news of my pregnancy with her.
Thinking of this, I quickly scrolled through her social media feed. The timeline froze on February 14th of this year.
On Valentine’s Day, she posted a photo of a pregnancy test with the caption: “This long journey is finally coming to an end.”
I was immersed in the joy of becoming a mother at the time. I hadn’t realized that photo was one I’d sent to Lorenzo.
After all the clues matched, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of fear. Just then, a wave of aching pain washed over my lower back and belly.
As if sensing my turmoil, the baby kicked my belly with all its might. The thought that this tiny life, which had shared every moment with me for seven months, was merely a vessel to sustain someone else’s existence.
Tears fell steadily down my cheeks. The faces of Lorenzo and Rachel, that despicable couple, kept flashing through my mind.