The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom. I pushed myself up, one hand cradling my belly for balance.
The passcode wasn’t our wedding anniversary. Not my birthday. Not his. My fingers trembled as I typed in the date from Lily’s ultrasound report.
The screen unlocked.
A cold, bitter smile curled my lips. I opened Snapchat, went straight to the hidden folder, and there she was, Lily Parker. They had matching couple avatars, and their statuses made me sick.
“If love is meant to last forever…”
“Then why count the days?”
I tapped into their chat. The screen flooded with “Baby,” “Miss you,” “Darling.” The same words Gabriel used to whisper to me, except now, they belonged to her.
I hit record.
Then I opened his Amazon account. Prenatal vitamins. Skincare. Luxury makeup. Every single order shipped to the same apartment complex. The recipient? Lily Parker.
With one hand calming my restless baby and the other taking screenshots, I sent everything to myself before wiping the history clean. No traces. No evidence, except the one growing inside me.
Sliding his phone back into place, I made my way to the bedroom and curled up on my side. My body felt cold, but the emptiness in my chest was worse.
Seven years of marriage. Nothing but a cruel joke.
