I didn't soften. I glanced at the message my assistant had just sent to my phone. "Cindy Pruitt. Middle school education. No formal domestic service training of any kind."
I flung the phone down in front of him. "Brendan Sanchez, this is who you're cheating on me with?"
His expression changed instantly, jaw clenched, words grinding through his teeth. "Debbie Henson, after everything, you're still questioning my loyalty?"
"I don't love you? Then why would I have married into your family?"
"Because of this arrangement, I barely speak to my parents anymore. Every relative I have laughs at me behind my back."
Yes. On that count, Brendan truly had been wronged. That was exactly why, when he said he wanted a child, I put myself through ninety-nine rounds of IVF.
I tapped the table and looked at him squarely. Despite everything, something in my chest still gave way.
"Fire Cindy Pruitt, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened."
Brendan had just turned thirty. His handsome face was smooth, unmarked by a single line. Yet for Cindy Pruitt alone, his brows knotted into a deep, tortured furrow.
"Debbie, can you please not put me in this position?"