The pregnancy test crumpled in my fist as my nails dug into my palm. Thin streaks of blood stained the white paper, blurring the black printed words. The red and black bled together like some cruel piece of art.
“Ethan, life’s too short. If you can’t bring yourself to dump her, then marry her. One woman for the bills, the rest for the thrills. What’s the harm?”
“Yeah, just let her stay home, raise kids, and serve your parents. It's just like you've got a first-class free maid!”
“Also, I heard Jillian’s so desperate to marry you that she doesn’t even want a dowry. That’s a bargain, man!”
“And as for those videos? I’ll delete them for you, no problem.”
I stared through the crack at Ethan, praying for even the slightest flash of anger, some shred of defense for me.
But he didn’t get angry. Instead, he nodded calmly. “You’re right. Women like Jillian don’t just walk through the door every day.”
My heart stopped. He wasn’t just tolerating their words, but he also agreed.
While I was still reeling from his cold calculation, Howard shoved his phone toward him with a grin and said, “Ethan, here are a few girls I know. Take a look, see if any catch your eye.”