When he woke up, he rubbed his temples like I’d caused him physical pain. “Spending time with you feels like a waste of mine,” he muttered.
Clearly now, he could be patient, even loving—just not with me. With Nellie, he had all the time in the world.
Then my phone rang. Steven must’ve recognized my WeLiveID on the stream.
“You have 30 minutes,” he said. “Come pick up your mom’s things from the postnatal recovery center.”
By the time I arrived, the livestream had ended.
Nellie greeted me with a bright, fake smile. “Lucia! You came to see me?”
I ignored her. Walked straight to Steven and held out my hand. “Give me the box.”
The easy smile faded from his face, jaw tightening. “Nellie spoke to you. Are you deaf now?”
I gave him a thin smile, then turned to Nellie.
“Congrats, Ms. Owen. You bagged my fiancé, had his baby—what’s next? Climbing the ladder with a baby in your arms?”
Crash!
Steven slammed his teacup onto the floor, shards flying. “If you’ve got nothing decent to say, shut up.”
Suddenly, Nellie clutched her stomach, tears hitting the floor.
Steven tensed immediately. “Nel? What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”