So that was the truth behind Ian’s rush to marry me. I wasn’t his wife. I was nothing more than a resource, a means to keep Trish Barton alive.
I turned to leave, but before I could escape, a figure stepped into my path. I looked up to see Trish standing across the hall, her chin lifted in triumph.
“Thought I saw some fat cow wandering around. Then I wondered, how could such a high-end bar be so careless and let an animal in?” She sneered. “Turns out, it’s just you.”
“What more do you want?” I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. “You stole my fiancé and turned me into the town joke. What makes you think you can still look down on me?” I demanded.
Trish smirked. “Just proving a point—that every man you thought loved you actually loved me.” Leaning in, she whispered in my ear, “Did you really think Ian married you out of love? Don’t be delusional. Who would ever love a fat, pregnant cow carrying another man’s child?”
Then, suddenly, she let out a dramatic scream and fell backward.
The door burst open and Ian rushed in, catching her in his arms.