I remembered, suddenly, what Clint had said at our wedding. "In sickness and in health, I will love you, cherish you, and be faithful to you. Forever."
Turns out his forever lasted four years.
His promises were just bubbles—the slightest pressure and they burst.
My vision blurred before I even realized it.
The girl's voice was bright with mockery. "If you'd managed to give him a baby, this bag would be yours. Shame you couldn't, isn't it?"
She was saying it to my face: I was infertile, and I couldn't hold on to Clint.
No part of me was willing to stand there and take it.
But I knew slapping her would only feel good for a second and change absolutely nothing.
I looked past her. Locked my eyes on Clint. Kept my voice steady. "Are you even sure the baby she's carrying is yours?"
I didn't expect what came next. He turned on me without a shred of mercy, voice raised for her sake: "Rowena's still a student—she's pure-hearted. She'd never have the kind of filthy mind you do.
"Don't think a few clever words are going to wreck what we have and drag me back to you.
"I stopped wanting a useless woman like you a long time ago."
A chill shot through me.