One Too Many Red Flags

"Clara, if you see something you like, just say the word. I'll buy it for you," Bethany said, holding Clara's hand with a motherly warmth Phoebe had never witnessed before.

"Mom, why are you so kind to Clara but always cold and sharp with Phoebe?" Nathan asked with a sigh. "Phoebe is your daughter-in-law, and she's carrying your grandchild. Can't you treat her better?"

"Because Clara doesn't stir up trouble and turn you against me like Phoebe does," Bethany snapped, her face darkening.

"Mom, I've told you many times, Phoebe never—" Nathan tried to explain, but Bethany had no patience to listen.

"Enough, Nathan," she cut him off. "We came here to shop and enjoy ourselves. Can't you stop mentioning Phoebe? It's killing the mood."

"Alright, alright. I won't bring her up," Nathan said, raising his hands in mock surrender. With a light smile, he added, "Today, I'm just here to serve Her Majesty and Her Royal Highness. I'll pay, I'll swipe my card, and I won't say another useless word."

The phrase "Her Royal Highness" pierced through Phoebe. Once, she believed she was the only princess in Nathan's heart. Even if he had betrayed her now, at least the love he once gave her had felt irreplaceable.

But it was never irreplaceable. Anyone could be his princess.

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. Without a word, she turned to leave.

At that moment, Nathan saw her.

"Phoebe? What are you doing here?" His face turned pale, and his eyes darted toward Clara, betraying his discomfort. "When... when did you get here?"

Phoebe met his gaze calmly. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Didn't you say you had urgent work at the office?"

"Nathan came to meet a client here. What's the problem?" Bethany interjected, her tone sharp and impatient. "You're pregnant. Stop being so suspicious and focus on taking care of the baby."

"Mom, stop blaming Phoebe," Nathan said, trying to soothe her. "If she doesn't feel secure, it's because I haven't done my job as a husband. If I'd given her enough reassurance, she wouldn't need to be suspicious."

As he spoke, he gently cradled Phoebe's hand and placed it over his heart. "Phoebe, I really did come here for business. The client is upstairs. If you don't believe me, I'll take you to meet him."

His eyes held hers, deep and unwavering. "When we married, I promised to love and cherish you forever. I swore I'd never lie to you, and I meant it. I will never break that promise."

Phoebe wondered how he did it—standing there in front of his mother, his wife, and their unborn child, speaking such bold-faced lies without a trace of guilt. Wasn't he afraid of the consequences?

"Then who is she?" Phoebe asked, turning her eyes toward Clara.

"She's Nathan's cousin," Bethany said smoothly. "Her family moved abroad years ago, so you wouldn't know her." With a sudden smile, she added, "By the way, Nathan, Clara just returned from abroad and doesn't have a place to stay. Why not let her live at your place for a while?"

She paused deliberately, then turned to Phoebe with a saccharine smile. "Phoebe, you don't mind, do you?"