“Your dad? That guy who runs a corner shop? What could he possibly pull off?” Daniel’s voice dripped with contempt. “Stop embarrassing me. Change rooms.”
The call ended, and Sophie smirked.
“Heard that? Daniel says this room is mine.”
She stepped aside just as Daniel—who’d claimed to be in an “important meeting”—hurried over carrying bags of supplements for Sophie.
“Daniel, you really believe her?” I looked at him, feeling my heart sink deeper and deeper.
He frowned, avoiding my gaze. “Emma, don’t make a scene. Sophie’s delicate and needs a good environment to protect the baby. You… just bear with it.”
“Bear with it?” I laughed, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Since I got pregnant, have you accompanied me to a single prenatal checkup? And now even the suite I booked is being taken by your secretary, and you tell me to bear with it?”
Sophie suddenly clutched her stomach with a dramatic gasp and leaned into Daniel. “Daniel, my belly hurts… maybe she upset me just now…”
“See what you’ve done?” Daniel’s glare cut to me. “I told you not to provoke her. If something happens to the baby, can you take responsibility?” He guided Sophie into the suite, tossing over his shoulder, “Go to a standard room and stop being an eyesore.”
Down the hall, nurses whispered to each other.
“Is that Daniel’s wife? Can’t even keep a suite from the secretary?”
“She’s got no background. Men like Daniel will always choose what helps their career.”
“Look at Sophie’s bag—it’s a limited edition. The other one’s maternity dress looks like it’s from a street stall.”
“I heard that VIP suite is reserved for the Whitmore family. Sophie’s last name is Lane—maybe she’s one of them?”
I went straight home and began packing the things I planned to take with me, throwing everything else away.
The faded couple’s hoodie in the closet went into the trash. I’d bought it for Daniel Reed with my very first paycheck back when he was just starting his business. At the time, he had held me close and promised, “Once the company makes it big, I’ll fill your closet with designer clothes.”
I picked up the glass jar from my nightstand, filled with movie stubs and park tickets from the past three years. Taking a deep breath, I tipped it over, letting the paper flutter into the garbage can.