And while he was doing all of that, he had already fathered a child with June.
Blood surged up my throat. I choked it back down.
"You're both disgusting."
There was a time when June stole from me, slandered me, and Patrick stood up for me every single time.
He even forced June to apologize to my face.
He pursued me for an entire year. Fresh flowers flown in daily. Breakfast made by his own hands. He memorized every little thing I loved and hated.
When he proposed, he knelt before me and cried like a child. He gave me the grandest wedding.
Eight years. From seventeen to twenty-five, I poured every ounce of love and trust I had into him.
And now, barely weeks after I lost our baby, he was moving June and their child into our home.
I laughed until my whole body trembled. Tears ran unchecked down my face.
"Patrick, can you look our child in the eye and say this is fair?"
His gaze darted away. Guilt swelled dark and heavy behind his eyes.
But June's sobbing pulled him back. He sighed.
"Serena, just be good about this."
I wiped my tears. My voice went quiet. Steady.
"Fine. They can stay."
He froze. He hadn't expected me to agree so quickly.