“Claire?” Ethan’s voice cracked as he saw me. He immediately let go of Madeline, his face pale. “Claire, I can explain! I just brought a casual companion, that’s all!”
My response was a hard slap across his face.
Pulling out my phone, I shoved it in his face, showing him the endless chat records. “Ethan, what kind of ‘companion’ ends up in your bed?”
He froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. No words came.
Madeline stepped forward, her face twisting into a smirk. But before she could utter a word, I slapped her too.
She stumbled back, her heel catching on the floor, and fell into a tower of champagne glasses. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the room as champagne spilled across the floor.
And then I saw it—a stream of bright red trickling from between her legs.
“Ethan! Ethan, save me!” she screamed, her voice hysterical. “Save our baby!”
Ethan froze, staring at the red stain spreading on the floor. Then, without a second thought, he shoved me aside and scooped her into his arms.
He rushed her out of the ballroom, not even looking back.
At that moment, he chose her.
He made me into a public spectacle, a joke.