There were milk stains on his pants just below the belt—still damp, mingled with the lingering scent of Malissa’s perfume. I didn’t need to guess what the two of them had been doing.
My stomach churned.
Just then, the maternity nurse from Malissa’s room came knocking on the door, flustered.
“Sir, madam’s breasts are engorged again. She’s been holding in tears all morning. The baby hasn’t eaten and her chest is rock hard. She’s in so much pain—please, could you come?”
Milford shoved me aside without hesitation. My injured leg buckled and I collapsed onto the floor. He didn’t even glance back.
“She’s in that much pain and no one thought to tell me sooner? What do I even pay you people for?” he barked, already halfway out the door.
“Starting today, she’s not nursing anymore. Hire as many wet nurses as it takes. I don’t want Lisa hurting another second—and my son is not going hungry!”
Just like that, he was gone, leaving me crumpled on the floor.
I sat there in stunned silence, remembering.