I bit my lip, forcing myself to breathe slowly, but it was no use. The walls of the dining room seemed to close in on me, and the candles—once beautiful and warm—now cast eerie, flickering shadows that made me feel even more trapped.
Without thinking, I redialed Rozen’s number. The ringing echoed in my ears—once, twice. Each second dragged on like an eternity, my anger bubbling beneath the surface, ready to spill over.
On the third ring, he finally picked up.
“Chloe,” Rozen muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. “I’m in the middle of something—"
“When are you coming home?” I cut him off, my words trembling as I tried to keep my voice steady.
There was a pause, but just before he responded, I heard something—a faint voice, a woman's voice, murmuring something in the background. My heart stuttered.
“I’ll be home soon. We’ll talk then,” he said quickly. And then, without warning, the line went dead. He’d hung up on me.
I glanced at the dinner table, the untouched meal, the wine slowly warming in the ice bucket, and the candles burning lower than ever. The entire night felt like a mockery of the life I thought we were building.
Frustration bubbled up inside me, and before I knew it, I was moving, grabbing the nearest candle off the table and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall, the wax splattering against the paint as the flame flickered out. But it wasn’t enough. I grabbed another, then another, hurling them without care.
Suddenly, a flicker of flame caught on the tablecloth, the fire spreading faster than I could react. I froze, watching in horror as the fabric ignited, the flames licking at the edge of the table. Panic surged through me, and I stumbled backward, grabbing a pitcher of water from the counter and dousing the flames. The fire hissed and sputtered, smoke curling up toward the ceiling, the acrid smell filling the room.
My heart pounded in my chest as I stood there, panting, the smoke making my eyes water.
A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and I winced, clutching my stomach. The stress, the anger… it was all too much. My little surprise—our baby—was still inside me, waiting for the moment I had been so desperate to share. But now? How could I possibly bring this child into a world where its father couldn’t even be honest with me?