As I passed a large glass window, I caught sight of my reflection and couldn’t resist taking a picture. With a quiet smirk, I uploaded it to social media.
Caption: “It’s never too late.”
Slipping my phone into my bag, I strolled home at an unhurried pace, savoring the crisp night air.
By now, I expected everyone to be asleep.
Yet the moment I stepped inside, three pairs of eyes locked onto me.
Hugo’s gaze dragged over me, his expression darkening with each passing second. The air grew heavy, thick with unspoken discontent. His voice, cold and edged with restraint, sent a cold chill through the room.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
I pulled it out absentmindedly. Seventeen missed calls.
“Oh, it was on silent. I didn’t hear it.” My tone was calm, indifferent.
I turned to head upstairs, but before I could take another step, Hugo suddenly seized my arm.
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you dressed like this? And your hair, what kind of proper mother looks like this?”
I let out a cold laugh.
So that was all I amounted to in Hugo’s eyes. Just the mother of his child. Nothing more.
At that moment, Jasper leaped off the couch, his face scrunched up in disgust.