After that day, Quentin gradually left my life.
He was all-in with Rainee, only texting late at night with a half-hearted [how are you?].
I ignored him, so the messages stopped.
Then I hit three months.
Ran into Quentin’s sister, Cecilia Palmer, at the hospital.
Cecilia looked stunned, then snatched my report like it burned her.
“You’re cheating on Quentin? Pregnant with some random guy’s baby?”
I blinked. “This baby’s Quentin’s. I didn’t cheat.”
She just laughed, sharp and cold. “Still lying? You look all sweet, but you’re trash underneath. Got knocked up and now you’re trying to scam your way into our family?”
Yeah, I knew she didn’t like me.
But I didn’t think she’d come at me like that.
No filter. Just pure hate.
A crowd started forming.
Whispers. Pointing.
I bit my lip till it bled, chest tight like I couldn’t breathe.
Tried to leave. Over and over.
But Cecilia blocked me every time.
I finally snapped. “What do you want? I told you, this baby’s Quentin’s. Call him if you don’t believe me.”
She scoffed. “Cut the act. Rainee’s the one having Quentin’s baby. He’s with her right now.
