Page 181 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

Oranges are one of my favorite fruits.

He hasn’t forgotten.

I take the slices from his hand.

I suddenly have to blink hard.

It’s probably the hormones.

Then comes the moment when he has to go to the obstetrician appointment with Bianca.

“Stay at the office,” he tells me. “I’ll call you as soon as it’s over.”

“No. I’m coming with you. I’ll stay in the waiting room, but I refuse to let her forget my presence for even a second. I refuse to disappear while she plays family with you. She’s the mother of your child, nothing more.”

Dante nods, and we head to the clinic together.

When we walk through the clinic’s glass doors, Bianca is already there.

She’s sitting in the waiting room, and her face lights up the moment she sees Dante. Then her gaze slides toward me, and the light instantly dies.

An icy coldness settles over her features before twisting into a smirk—that small, crooked, satisfied smile curling at the corner of her lips.

She stands and walks toward us.

“Dante. I’m so happy you’re here,” she coos.

Then she turns toward me.

“What is she doing here?”

“We’re together now,” Dante replies.

Bianca’s head snaps toward him. Her eyes immediately cloud over.

As if, despite everything, some part of her had never truly prepared herself to hear those words.

Does she love him?

The thought crosses my mind despite myself.

I see the exact moment she swallows her pain. The moment the mask slips back into place. By the time she turns toward me again, a cruel smile is already stretching across her lips.

“Valeria. You never congratulated me,” she says with mock hurt.

So much for compassion.

Would it be terrible if I punched her in the face? The idea is alarmingly tempting.

I answer her with silence, and we take our seats in the uncomfortable waiting-room chairs—Dante in the middle, Bianca and me on either side of him.

The conversations around us quiet slightly.

A few glances drift toward Dante.

Then Bianca.

Then me.