“How long was I supposed to hide it?” he said, almost bored. “We’ve been together nearly a year. A year. I love her. I’m tired of pretending.”
I stared at him, barely able to speak.
“You… what?”
He met my eyes, cool and unwavering. “I can’t live a lie anymore. Camille is who I want. She’s carrying my child. Everyone deserves the truth.”
My mother let out a soft cry and covered her face. Marcus’ parents sat frozen in silence.
Jacob looked pale, his wide eyes locked on his father. Emma remained quiet, tears soaking into my sleeve.
Camille reached for Marcus’ hand, her fingers slipping into his like it was second nature.
That was when the pain truly landed—not only from betrayal, but from the sheer audacity. The cruelty of turning our family dinner into his grand announcement.
And just when I thought nothing could cut deeper, Marcus’ father—a man who rarely spoke unless necessary—slowly rose to his feet and lifted his wine glass.
The entire room went still.
Marcus glanced at his father the way a boy looks for approval, almost expecting praise. Camille’s lips curved in a small, self-satisfied smile, her arm still firmly wrapped around his.