Turning the Tables on Cheaters

The murmurs around me grew louder, and the disapproving glares of the crowd seemed to fixate on me.

When I didn't say anything, Zoey placed a hand protectively over her stomach, her eyes filled with hurt.

"We're really hungry," she said softly. "Please, let me cut in line. I'll pay double the price."

Zoey reached for her phone to pay, but I quickly stopped her and replied coldly, "You're pregnant. If anything happens, my restaurant can't bear the responsibility. Please, go eat somewhere else."

Zoey looked stunned by my bluntness, her eyes brimming with tears in an instant.

"I'm just pregnant; I haven't done anything wrong. Why won't you let me eat?"

As Zoey spoke, she swayed slightly, and the customers around her hurried to grab a chair for her to sit.

One of the customers suggested that Zoey go eat elsewhere for now, but she shook her head miserably.

"I have severe morning sickness, and I can't keep anything down. The doctor said I should eat whatever I can manage, or I'll lose the baby," she spoke while looking at me, her eyes full of accusation and pain.

"I didn't expect the owner would turn me away. I can go without eating, but my baby can't go hungry."

As Zoey's pale face turned more ashen, murmurs of outrage swept through the restaurant.

"How could you be so cruel? How could you let a pregnant woman go hungry?"

"I heard she's been engaged for two years but still hasn't married. Maybe she can't have children, and that's why she's jealous of others."

"Bah! People like her don't deserve to have kids!"

My fiancé, Laurence Ball, stood up after handing Zoey a glass of water. He turned toward me, his face filled with anger.

"So this is what you've become, being cruel to a complete stranger? Where did the person I loved go? No wonder you're still not pregnant even though we've been together for five years. If you can't have kids, you should get checked out, not make life hard for a pregnant lady!"

Laurence's words made it clear—he was accusing me of jealousy and intentionally making things difficult for Zoey.

The eyes of everyone in the room seemed to burn into me, as if trying to pierce through me.

I was shaking with rage, wanting nothing more than to slap Laurence right across his arrogant face.

I took a deep breath, forced myself to calm down, and looked at the person who had been the loudest.

"If you're so compassionate, let her share your table. If anything happens to her after she eats, you'll be fully responsible," I said.

The man's face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly backed away, retreating to the back of the crowd.

"Pregnant women are already prone to complications. If any of you are willing to take responsibility for her, I'll arrange a table right now," I said, scanning the room. When I met their eyes, they quickly looked away.

I sneered internally.

Just moments ago, they were all standing on their moral high ground. But as soon as they were asked to take responsibility, none of them dared to speak up.

Just when I thought I had managed to avoid Zoey's miscarriage in my restaurant, Laurence suddenly shoved me.

"You really have no compassion," he spat.

I didn't expect him to push me. I stumbled and fell to the ground, my keys, phone, and medical report scattering everywhere.

When Laurence saw the medical report, he quickly snatched it up.

Zoey, standing beside him, casually read the report aloud.

"Chlamydia positive, gonorrhea positive, HIV positive. Patient: Dakota Lennings."

With a loud gasp, everyone in the room took several steps back, quickly distancing themselves from me.

I was about to explain when Laurence slapped me across the face.

"You filthy woman. I can't believe you're infected with all these diseases!"

He turned to explain to the crowd, "I haven't slept with her in two years."

Instantly, the entire restaurant erupted in shocked whispers.