"When it was finished, I realized it looked awful and planned to throw it out. I never expected him to pick it up. Thanks for saving me the trouble."
Her smile stiffened, then darkened into something sharp and venomous.
"But there’s one thing you can’t bear to throw away—Nathaniel."
She let out a slow, taunting laugh.
"Seven years, Clara. Every night since I came back, he’s been in my bed. He’s practically my husband now."
"But the funny thing is…" She leaned in slightly, her voice dipping into something sickly sweet. "Even when he holds me at night, I’m thinking of another man."
"Even if he's trash, I won’t let you have him, not even as scraps. I’d rather see your child mocked as a bastard."
At that moment, I finally understood Ophelia wasn’t in love with Nathaniel. She was only toying with him.
If Nathaniel hadn’t cast Ophelia aside, there had to be something more to it, something to gain.
Just as I was about to lash out, Nathaniel strolled in. Without a hint of concern for my presence, he pulled Ophelia into his arms and kissed her.
"Ophelia, you're here."