But in their world of "original members," I was always the outsider—an intruder who didn't belong.
My hands trembled, my chest tightened. I resisted the urge to smash her phone and instead saved every one of those chat records as proof.
By the time Serina walked back in, I had already placed her phone neatly where it had been.
She picked it up, hesitated for a moment, then said softly, "Hubby, those people are so clingy, insisting on tagging along with me. Why don't you just be good and stay home this time?"
I calmly reached for my jacket. "Claire has been my friend for more than a decade. If this project involves her, I'm going too."
She froze, then stretched out an arm to stop me.
"You never get along with them anyway. Better not come—you'll just spoil the mood."
She turned as if to leave.
I caught her wrist, locking eyes with her.
"Today is my birthday."
I didn't add anything more. It was the last chance I was willing to give her.
Outside the door, Beckett stomped impatiently.
Serina's expression instantly twisted with annoyance. She yanked her arm free with a violent shrug. "Why are you acting like some nagging old woman? What's so special about a birthday?"