BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET: HIS EX-WIFE RETURNS FROM THE DEAD

MELLOW.

“We’re eleven weeks pregnant!” the bitch squeals, exalted by cheers from everyone.

Zeath showing up at the Lupin family’s fucking dinner with his ex-girlfriend is insulting. And I can’t believe my eyes as I gaze at them standing at the table’s head.

He doesn’t explain himself. Nobody does. But they know what the heck’s going on and are hell-bent to leave me in the dark.

A thought knocks on my head, urging me to remove myself from this situation. Yet, I don’t listen.

Instead, I blurt out, “Zeath, babe, what’s going on?”

Zeath ignores me. Now I’m just sat where I am, eyes stuck on him as he pulls out a seat for his ex before sitting beside her.

She softly bumps her shoulder on his then watches as he dishes food for her.

I want to believe it’s a prank. And I’m waiting for someone to say, ‘Got ya!’

Like, can someone please tell me what is going on? I can’t be the only one who’s curious, right?

Except, I am. No one seems to mind. They’re all absorbed in the moment, acting like it’s normal.

And the more their silence stretches, the more it feels like I could choke on my food.

Mama Tia, Zeath’s grandma, has been watching me for some time now. She was always the best comfort: soft-spoken, never hesitated to mention her love for me.

But her next words drive a spike through my heart.

“Whoever feels uncomfortable should leave.”

No one else feels uncomfortable, at least not the way I see it, which means those words are for me.

If only she knew I’m not leaving until I’m done with my dinner.

Zeath’s brother raises a champagne glass. “A toast to my brother, Yolie, and their blessed unborn.”

Everyone raises their glasses with a cheer. I do too, but I’m rather quiet. I only now observe the toaster, East, from beneath my lashes while sipping my wine.

He meets my gaze and smirks, then relaxes in his seat.

“Sorry, I forgot you, Melon,” he says. He’s mocking me. “Shall we toast to your twenty-six years of abstinence, then?”

I scoff.

Fuck East and his rotten toast. I could squash his glass on his head and force the pieces into his mouth. Pray that it cuts the bloody fucker’s tongue.

“I’m sorry, East, but... to hell with you,” I snap, right before Zeath gets up noisily and heads toward the restroom. And despite the eyes on me, I follow him.

Male toilet or not, I stand behind him as he relieves himself. He doesn’t even act like I’m there, going as far as trying to leave when he’s done.

Only I’m faster.

I push myself to his front before resting against the door to block his way out.

“This is about the child, isn’t it?” I rap, taking a breath and a moment of silence before adding, “Or sex.”

Zeath chose not to reply. He slowly walks to stand near the sink, resting