When he spotted me, he raised his eyebrows with a smug grin.
“Allen, you’re here? Long time no see. Come, sit down. I heard your ‘tadpoles’ didn’t pass the quality check again—poor Adriana had another miscarriage. You must’ve cried all night, huh? Try not to wear yourself out.”
Since the wedding incident, things had fallen apart between me, Melissa, and Khalil. I usually avoided coming here when they were around.
But today, luck clearly wasn’t on my side.
I thought of the photo he’d posted—Melissa’s six-month baby bump. I thought of the truth: that child was Adriana’s. My heart twisted painfully.
Adriana had never let my child survive past the third month.
When her mother—my mother-in-law—saw me, her expression immediately soured.
“Useless piece of trash. How many times has this happened now? And you still have the nerve to look tired? How did my daughter end up with someone like you?”
She was Adriana’s biological mother, but only Melissa’s step-grandmother. At fifty, she was still ambitious, and watching the CEO position—originally meant for Adriana—fall into Melissa’s hands, filled her with bitterness.
In the past, Adriana might have spoken up for me.