He moved closer, trying to embrace me as he always had, but the touch I once found comforting now churned my stomach.
I sidestepped, pointing at the knife in my wet hand. “I’ve got water on me. Don’t want to get you wet.”
Daniel froze for a second, then quickly recovered, lips curving into a fond smile.
“I’ll put the cake away then. Be careful with the knife, don’t hurt yourself.”
He placed the cake in the fridge, then returned, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.
His breath brushed against my neck, carrying a perfume scent that wasn’t mine.
It was Olivia’s favorite fragrance—“Diva Icon.”
My stomach lurched, bile rising, though I forced my voice to remain calm.
“Did you pick up the report from the hospital today? What did the doctor say?” He pressed closer, almost as if testing me.
“I did. Everything’s fine.” I kept my voice even, hiding any cracks.
“Good.” He kissed my cheek softly, his tone dripping with affection.
“Our daughter will grow up healthy and strong.”
I stayed silent, chopping faster, each slice cutting through his false tenderness.
Sensing my coldness, he tightened his hold, his voice probing: “Rachel, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy?”