“I didn’t ask him to postpone anything.”
“No,” she said. “You just appeared with perfect timing and a newborn.”
I closed my eyes. “You came to my door.”
“You could have told him sooner.”
“Why? So your wedding could have been canceled in a more convenient month?”
She inhaled. Slowly. “You’re much more calculating than people think.”
I looked at Leo sleeping beside me and felt something inside me go perfectly still.
“Listen carefully,” I said. “I am five days post-op. My child is medically fragile. And I am not spending one minute defending myself to a woman who delivered a wedding invitation to a postpartum apartment. This conversation is over.”
Before I hung up, she asked the question she had really been calling to ask.
“Are you even sure the baby is his?”
My grip tightened on the phone until my hand hurt.
Then I said, very clearly, “Be careful.”
Not because I wanted to threaten her.
Because I knew the moment a woman starts attacking the reputation of a child’s mother, she stops being merely jealous and becomes dangerous.