The words "old woman" hit me like a slap. My hand clenched around the phone in my pocket, knuckles bone-white.
I wasn't even thirty. And in her mouth, I was the worn-out wife who didn't deserve Ralph Dickerson?
I swallowed the fury clawing up my chest and kept listening.
"He promised me that once the baby's born, he'll go public with us and make me Mrs. Dickerson." Lisa's face was glowing with anticipation, her voice dripping with arrogance. "I'll be a trophy wife. I'll never have to answer to anyone again."
"But right now... does his wife know you exist?" Her friend still looked uneasy.
"Probably not. Ralph puts on a perfect act at home. Not a single crack in the performance." Lisa laughed, smug and satisfied. "And even if she did find out, so what? I have a son. She can't give him one. I'm the one who wins in the end."
"Oh, and the Eternal Love Design Competition," she added, her tone turning even more contemptuous. "That design was hers to begin with, and now it's my award-winning entry. No matter how talented she is, she's nothing but a stepping stone for me."
Enough.
I couldn't listen to another word.