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I storm out of the room with Damien behind me. We don’t stop until we’re behind the wheel. “What do you plan to do?” Damien asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Where are we going?” He starts the car.
“Just drive.”
Chapter twenty-four
Jasmine
“Ana, I wish you were here.” I trudge down the steps, holding the phone to my ear. “I hate going to see the doctor on my own.”
“I wish I were there, too,” she groans. “And we can’t postpone the appointment, or can we?”
“No.” I sit on the couch, checking my wristwatch. I still have thirty minutes to burn, so I keep Ana on the phone. It’s been a week since I left France, and I’ve been unhappy. Alec has stopped reaching out to me, and I’m sure it’s officially over between us.
I don’t know whether to be happy or relieved, but I feel none of these things. All I feel is a terrible sadness that clings to me every second of the day. My heart is broken, and it’ll take a while before it mends itself. I love Alec so much, and even right now, I’m still madly in love with him.
“You’re so quiet. What are you thinking about?”
I sigh. “I want Chinese rice and turkey for dinner.”
“You just had lunch,” Ana said, laughing. “Your cravings are the funniest symptoms ever.”
“Are you laughing at a pregnant woman?” I gasp. “You hate me. I’m sure of it.”
“Shut up.” She continues to laugh. “I’ll send you dinner, okay? Chinese rice and turkey, it is.”
“You’re my best friend in the whole world. Do I tell you that often?”
“You’ve never told me that before.”
“I’m disgusted with myself.”
“You had better be.”
We both burst into laughter. “I’ve got to go, Ana. I should order a ride.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later. Keep me updated.”
“I will. Bye. Love—” The doorbell rings. “There’s someone at the door. It’s probably Riley.”
“That’s great. He would be able to go with you, right?”
“If he isn’t too tired. He worked the night shift.”
“Oh, shit. He should rest then.”
“We’ll see. Bye.”
“Bye, Jas.”
I leave my phone on the couch and head to the door, throwing the door open without glancing through the peephole. The breath whooshes out of my lungs upon seeing the elegant woman standing on my doorstep.
Mrs. Ace looks out of place here, as if she’s a wave of color surrounded by black and white. The feathers in her fascinator drift in the wind, and she smiles at me. “Hello, Miss Ambrose.”
Anger rushes to the surface, and I almost slam the door on her face, but curiosity gets the best of me, and I arch my brows. “What are you doing here?”
