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“If you want to join in on the spoiling, then you need to make peace with your son. Be aware your husband will not be allowed in our home. Ever. He, I can’t forgive.”

I’m surprised at the ice in my tone.

She watches me, eyes calculating the strength of my resolve before she jerks her head in a semblance of acquiescence.

“Fair enough,” she agrees, rising to her feet.

From the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Jones making herself scarce. Was she standing just outside our line of sight this entire time? I walk Mrs. Lancaster to the door, and she hesitates before she walks through the threshold, her hand on the handle.

“Will you—will you ask Remi to call me, please? He’s not answering my calls.”

I hide my reaction with a bite to the inside of my cheek. That’s the first I’ve heard of it. I wonder if Justin knows Remi’s mother has been reaching out.

Probably.

“I will,” I assure her. “I’ll make him call you,” I promise. “I can’t make any guarantees that it’ll be a pleasant conversation, but I’ll ensure he at least makes the effort.”

I learned years ago it’s a wife's job to make her husband do things he doesn’t want to do.

“Thank you.”

She nods once more, eyes flicking to my belly, then she steps into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind her.

22

JULIA

The boys come home from their joint therapy session to find me bawling on the couch. Couples counseling is what Justin calls it. When and if the time comes, I'll go with them as well, but until that point, it's just the two of them.

Remi's relationship with me has never really been the problem. I could divorce Justin and marry Remi tomorrow, and no one would blink an eye. But add Justin to the mix, and that's where a lifetime of conditioning makes Remi go sideways.

Justin needs to learn that freedom comes at a cost, and Remi needs to realize that the price of freedom is a fee worth paying.

Every day Remi gets more comfortable in his skin.

Whereas I—

"What the fuck happened, Jules?" Justin demands, falling to his knees in front of me.

Justin’s hands cup my face, then start a methodical pat from my head down my body. Remi whips his phone out, obviously ready to call 911.

"You assholes got me pregnant and now there's a parasite taking over my body!" I wail.

Remi’s hand drops to his side with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"Thats—that's it?"

Justin falls over on his ass, putting his hands over his heart as his adrenaline flees from his body when Remi snorts and drops onto the couch beside me.

"Jesus, baby girl," Justin huffs. "Are you trying to kill me?"

I hit him, ortryto hit him at least, but the harsh motion just makes me cry out, and I lift my forearms to pin my breasts.

"My boobs hurt!"

"Your boobs hurt," Justin repeats as if trying to understand.

"Yes!" I all but shout and wipe my eyes. "I thought it was because they didn't have any support, but when I put my bra on they still hurt. I tried to rub them but they're like twice the size I'm used to and my hands barely fit. I took a bath but the hot water was too much for me and my nipples are so sensitive I have no idea how I'm ever going to breastfeed! They hurt, and I’m already failing as a mother!"

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