<b>Chapter </b>177
“Last time, you called me in the middle of the night. I was so exhausted after surgery that I never got back to you. Were you sick?” Jasmine asked as soon as she saw me.
Kicking off my shoes, I stepped onto the carpet andmented, “Jasmine, if I really had been sick, I would have burned to ashes by now.”
Jasmine wrapped an arm around my shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you upset?”
“No. I know you’re busy. It was nothing important,” I replied, not mentioning Josh’s illness.
Jasmine didn’t believe me and probed, “If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t have called me in the middle of the
night.”
“It was about Josh,” I finally admitted, not wanting her to worry.
Jasmine poured me half a ss of freshly squeezed apple juice and advised, “That guy is really something. Zoe<b>, </b>if
you don’t hold onto him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
My mind was still a mess because of Alvin. I took a sip of apple juice and muttered, “Alvin and I arepletely
done.”
Jasmine scoffed. “Weren’t you done a long time ago?”
Staring off into the distance, I replied, “This time, it’s really over.”
Jasmine seemed to sense my mood. She clinked her ss against mine and cheered, “Congrattions!”
Her words made <i>me </iugh, and I asked, “Alvin was nice to you, too. Why are you like this?”
“He could be the nicest guy in the world, but if he wasn’t good to you, then it doesn’t matter,” Jasmine responded. She truly was my ride–or–die.
“Come on, forget about him. Let’s drink our juice, and then we’ll go get some good food,” she added, clinking her ss against mine again.
“I don’t want to go. I’m not in the mood,” I declined.
But Jasmine didn’t care about my protests–she still dragged me along. “After dinner, we’ll hit a bar and check out some hot guys.”
Without her white coat, Jasmine transformed into a city vixen. The phrase don’t judge a book by its cover suited her perfectly.
She said a new French restaurant had opened, and she wanted to treat me to foie gras. As luck would have it, the restaurant was right next to the café where Thea had asked to meet me.
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I hadn’t even gotten out of the car when I spotted her through the café window, staring nkly at something, lost in thought.
‘She… actually looks kind of pitiful,‘ I thought.
It had been two hours since she messaged and called me. Apparently, when she said she would wait, she meant it.
Herst message said she needed to tell me something. Curiosity suddenly sparked in me. More importantly, if she was going to sit there waiting for me all night, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my meal in peace.
I gestured toward the café and said to Jasmine, “I’ll go talk to her. You order the food first.”
“Go ahead,” Jasmine said without stopping me.
She knew Thea was pregnant, and her philosophy was that no matter what mistakes adults made, the child was innocent.
When I sat down across from Thea, she blinked in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected me to show up.
“Weren’t you noting?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“I’m only here for the baby’s sake,” I replied bluntly.
Thea let out a bitter smile. “Sit down. Want a coffee or something?”
“No. Just get to the point–I have dinner ns,” I said curtly.
A flicker of difort crossed her face. She carried herself with gentle grace, as if untouched by time, but that forced smile betrayed her pretense.
“So? What does Miss Mills want to talk to me about? Alvin?” I asked, cutting straight to the chase.
She lowered her head, gazing at her belly. After a brief silence, she looked up and asked, “Zoe, do Alvin’s parents like children?”
I froze for a moment, trying to decipher her meaning, when she continued, “Do you think they would ept the child I’m carrying?”
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