Chapter 3

Amelia's POV

Julian didn't come looking for me for a week after that, until Thanksgiving morning when his mother, Mary Kerr, kept calling me, insisting I come home for the holiday. I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to expose her son once and for all.

The Kerr dining room gleamed under crystal chandeliers, warm light dancing across the mahogany table laden with traditional Thanksgiving fare.

"Amelia, dear, you look radiant," Mary murmured while arranging the final place settings. The lie rolled off her tongue with practiced ease, but I caught her stealing glances at my still-flat stomach.

Julian's father Robert simply carved the turkey as if I didn't exist. Three years of marriage, and in their eyes, I was still just the girl from a once-prominent but now-fallen family—someone who had somehow stolen their golden boy.

"Sorry I'm late!" Marcus Pierce burst into the dining room with his signature grin. He was supposed to be Julian's best friend—though lately, he seemed to see through Julian's perfect husband act better than anyone.

"Marcus," Julian stood, extending his hand. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Your mother invited me. I couldn't resist." Marcus's gaze met mine across the table. "Besides, I wanted to see how your little domestic paradise is going." His smile grew brighter. "Amelia, your taste has always been questionable."

"Excuse me?" The words escaped before I could stop them.

Julian's hand tightened on Marcus's shoulder. "Watch it."

"Relax, Jules. Just making conversation." Marcus settled into his chair, but his eyes never left me.

"Well," Robert interrupted, "perhaps we should discuss more pressing matters." His pale eyes fixed on me. "Three years of marriage, Amelia. No children. Have you consulted a doctor about this?"

The familiar knot formed in my stomach. Here we go again. "Mr. Kerr—"

"It's a reasonable concern," he continued, ignoring Mary's warning look. "The Kerr name needs to continue. Surely you understand the importance of legacy."

"Dad," Julian's voice carried a warning.

"Don't 'Dad' me. I've been patient, but this is getting ridiculous." Robert set down his knife forcefully. "Other men your age already have sons, heirs."

I felt cornered, three years of subtle pressure and unspoken disappointment crushing down on me. "Mr. Kerr, creating life requires more than just timing. It requires trust."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Trust? Interesting word choice."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Julian's voice dropped dangerously low.

"Nothing, nothing." Marcus raised his hands in mock surrender, but his smile grew wider. "Just what Amelia said about... timing."

My phone vibrated against my leg. Then again. I ignored it.

"Marcus," Mary tried to intervene, "perhaps we should—"

"No, I think Marcus should explain himself," Julian suddenly stood, his chair scraping harshly against the hardwood. "What exactly are you implying about my wife?"

"Easy there, buddy." Marcus took a leisurely sip of wine. "I'm just saying, maybe the problem isn't timing. Maybe it's performance." A flash of malicious amusement crossed his eyes. "Some people just... can't deliver."

Julian's face went white, then red. I could see the vein at his temple start to throb—the same one that pulsed when he lied about working late.

You bastard—

"Julian!" Mary shrieked.

But Julian wasn't listening. "You came into my parents' house just to drive a wedge between me and my wife!"

"Your wife?" Marcus laughed, the sound ugly and knowing. "That's rich. Julian, tell me, when was the last time you actually—"

"GET OUT!" Julian roared, lunging across the table.

Chaos erupted—Mary's screams, Robert's shouts, crystal shattering on the floor.

Then Julian's hand was on my arm, gripping almost painfully as he pulled me toward the door. "We're leaving."

"Julian, wait—" I tried to protest, but he was already dragging me through the foyer.

Outside, the November wind cut through my silk dress like ice.

My phone started buzzing incessantly. Finally, I received two text messages.

[Will you forgive him?]

[Don't you need me anymore?]

I was about to silence my phone when Julian's hand shot out and snatched it away.

He stared at the messages on my screen and asked:

"Who is he?"