The realization landed visibly. My “cute little business.” The late nights. The dismissed ambition. It had grown beyond his comprehension—and now it intersected directly with his world.
He swallowed. “So what? You’re going to destroy me? Take my job?”
“Your employer will make decisions based on compliance and performance,” Margaret said. “Ms. Carter will not conduct HR matters from a hospital bed.”
Jason’s voice trembled with anger. “You’re embarrassed. That’s what this is. You’re punishing me because I moved on.”
I felt no fury. No heartbreak. Just clarity. “You didn’t move on,” I said. “You threw me out while I was in labor. That’s abandonment.”
The security officer stepped forward. “Sir, you need to leave.”
For a second, Jason looked volatile—like he might shout or break something. His gaze flicked to the bassinet, then back to me.
“Jason,” Madeline said quietly. “Stop.”
He stared at her, betrayal dawning. Perhaps she had simply realized what kind of man she had aligned herself with.
“You think money makes you untouchable?” he snapped at me.
Margaret’s reply was precise. “Money doesn’t. Documentation does.”
Jason jabbed a finger toward me. “This isn’t over.”
The officer opened the door wider. Jason left. But the silence that followed felt electric. Charged. Because he was right in one respect: It wasn’t over.
Margaret sat beside me and slid the folder onto the bed. “We need to stabilize your housing situation immediately,” she said. “He will attempt to control the narrative.”
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