And as I stood there, gripping my coat tightly around me, I realized something terrifying.
There was no longer any love between us.
Only a war that would never end.
Christopher’s voice was filled with cold, biting certainty.
“Your birthday is in seven days! I know! That’s why I’m proposing to Liz that day! I love her! I’m not pretending! I want her to be my wife—the only wife in my heart, even if it isn’t legally recognized!”
His words hit me like a slap, but he wasn’t finished.
“You’ll just have to spend your next life as Mrs. Adam,” he sneered.
Then his voice dropped, filled with cruel amusement.
“Oh, and I saw Liz stepping on your stomach that day. I let her do it. I indulged her. Even if the child inside you is born, I won’t give him a single ounce of fatherly love.”
He scoffed. “Ariana, this is exactly what you and your daughter deserve.”
With that, he shoved me aside, started the car and drove away without a second glance.
I barely had time to steady myself before my phone rang again. It was Christopher.
His tone had changed—colder, more playful.
“Ariana, you’ll personally handle my proposal ceremony in seven days.”
His voice dripped with mockery.