I returned home with a weight crushing me from all sides. The house felt emptier than it had ever been. My hands shook as I pressed them against the dining table, trying to steady my breath. That was when I heard footsteps—heels clicking against the marble floor.
Nadine.
She stood there like she owned the place, her hand resting over her stomach, a smug smile on her lips. And then Leandro entered, his hand casually brushing her arm. My chest tightened with rage.
“What is she doing here?” I snapped.
“She’ll be staying with us for a while,” Leandro said casually, as if announcing the weather. “And you’ll be cooking. For her.”
I stared at him, stunned. “And why would I do that?”
“Because you’re the reason the baby is in danger. You should take responsibility.” His voice was sharp, commanding, as if I were nothing but a servant.
“I don’t want to,” I spat, shaking my head.
Leandro’s eyes hardened. “I’m not asking, Emerald. I’m ordering.” He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous.
I pulled away, rage and heartbreak colliding in my chest. “I don’t want to. Let’s just divorce now.”