He noticed the untouched fertility meds in the trash and frowned. "Throwing a tantrum over something so small?"
I kept my voice steady. "I'm not angry."
He laughed mockingly. "You threw away your fertility meds, but sure, you're not mad. Do whatever you want. But remember, you're the one who's desperate, not me."
I was about to show him my pregnancy report when he handed me a dark shoebox. "This is from Jen. She's young, and doesn't know any better. She freaked out when she saw you upset and said something as dumb as talking about abortion. She wanted to send you a gift to apologize."
He opened the box. Inside was a pair of YSL heels.
But they were obviously Jenna's. The soles were worn, and the paint on the heel was chipped.
"Take them. They weren't cheap, and she barely wore them. She's only been working for a short time, so she doesn't have much. But giving you these shoes really hurt her," Brandon said.
I let out a dry laugh. Thirty minutes before he got home, Jenna had posted on Instagram, flaunting her brand-new Chanel sandals with the caption: "To the best boss in the world! Thanks for your obvious favoritism--it gives me the confidence to show off!"