Andera's pov
I wiped another tear from my face, not caring that the chaffuer could see me from the rearview mirror. I had ordered a Black service car to pick me up from the restaurant. Since I entered the luxury vehicle, I've been alternating between crying and hysterical laughter. When Thane called our daughter's name, a deluded part of me had hoped he'd beg me to take him back so we could live together as a family. But then he ruined it, by asking about her paternity.
The first question he asked was if Tiffany was his child. Really? Is he stupid or did he say that to annoy me? I had thought. But then he kept on pressing, demanding to know if Tiffany was his daughter
Thane thought low of me. Disgustingly low.
I loved him, I worshipped the ground he stood on, and I made him see that
