Chapter 2 - The A-Image of Control
I didn't weep. I didn't scream for an apology. I sat slightly elevated on the examination chair, dressed in a flawless, tailored white blazer that draped elegantly over my stomach. I looked completely untouched by the chaos. I was the very picture of radiant, terrifying control.
Behind me, Daniel and Vanessa looked like they had just been struck by lightning. Daniel’s jaw was unhinged, his eyes wide with the realization of his catastrophic miscalculation. Vanessa had her hand clamped over her mouth in sheer horror, the smug mistress routine entirely shattered.
"Lauren," Daniel choked out, taking a tentative step toward me. "I... I didn't know. The timeline, I just assumed—"
"You assumed," I interrupted, wiping the cold gel from my stomach and sitting up straight. "You assumed I was a liar. You assumed I was stupid. But worst of all, Daniel, you assumed I was weak."
May you like
I reached into my designer handbag resting on the chair beside me and pulled out a sleek, black leather folder. It was identical in shape to the one he had slid across the café table two weeks ago.
"Since you brought your coworker to my medical appointment," I said, handing the folder directly to Vanessa, "she can be the one to serve you."
