"Then why don't you find someone to knock you up and try it yourself?"
My voice was quiet. Almost conversational.
But the smug look on Charity's face cracked like dry earth.
"That's enough, Naomi. You've gone too far."
Brendan's voice cut in, low and hard. His eyes held nothing but disapproval—
For me.
I watched him in silence.
Just as he turned to comfort Charity, I spoke again.
"Oh, I almost forgot."
"You'd love to have a child of your own, wouldn't you? Too bad the father wasn't interested."
Everyone who knew Charity knew exactly what she'd done back then.
The moment the words left my mouth, two sounds rang out simultaneously.
"Naomi!"
Slap!
Charity stood before me, her raised hand striking down again.
I'd just given birth. I had no strength left to fight back—I took both blows full-force.
When I tried to dodge, the movement tore at my stitches. Waves of searing pain ripped through my lower abdomen.
Charity looked down at me, her voice dripping with acid and contempt.
"I only slapped you twice out of respect for Brendan. Sister-in-law, I suggest you remember this lesson."
My face had gone chalk-white. Through the agony, I turned to look at Brendan, who stood beside her without lifting a finger.
He'd been right next to Charity the whole time. Close enough to stop her.
Unless he never intended to.
Sure enough, after a brief moment of eye contact, Brendan's gaze drifted away, unbothered.
"Charity was right to hit you."
"You went too far, Naomi."
My heart plummeted.
Too far?
Compared to what he and Charity had said while I lay unconscious and vulnerable—this didn't even come close to a fraction of it.
I remembered drifting in and out of sleep, hearing Brendan discuss my most private moments with an outsider. That careless, dismissive tone.
And my daughter—the child I'd nearly died bringing into this world—when she cried, he hadn't even glanced her way.
His claim that he'd held her later? I didn't believe a single word.
"Brendan, I asked you a question. Answer me."
"Sister-in-law, don't be so dramatic." Charity crossed her arms, her face full of disdain. "You ballooned into that mess during your pregnancy, and Brendan never said a word about it. So what if he let us watch your delivery video?"
"Stop acting like Brendan owes you something. Who are you playing victim for?"
I froze.
"Us?"
"What do you mean, us? Brendan—explain yourself. Who else did you send that video to?"