The words carried farther than he probably intended. Several people nearby turned to look.
“It’s depressing,” he added. “I need my life back.”Marriage counseling
The baby kicked sharply inside me, as if reacting to the cruelty in his voice.
Tessa let out a soft laugh. “Grant really tried,” she said sweetly. “But men have needs.”
My throat tightened. “You’re divorcing me when I’m about to give birth,” I whispered.
Grant shrugged. “You’ll survive. My lawyer will arrange child support. I’m not your caretaker.”
Then he slid another document across the bench. Glossy. Official. A marriage application receipt.
“You’re marrying her?” I asked.
Grant smiled smugly. “Next week.”
The baby shifted again, heavy and restless.
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