A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 97

At the mention of the morning’s events, the hard lines of Fairfax’s face softened slightly. He tried to keep his voice gentle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on your period.”

He knew that certain supplements, especially those that promote blood circulation, were dangerous during menstruation.

As he said the word ‘period,’ Starla’s gaze went completely numb.

That was it. He didn’t believe she had been pregnant. By saying it so plainly, he was telling her he thought she was faking a miscarriage, using her period as an excuse. He was warning her not to be so willful.

After a few seconds of numbness, a bitter laugh escaped her lips. “My period. Ha.”

How many women hemorrhaged from their period? Some, perhaps, but Fairfax knew her body better than that. He knew that wasn’t normal for her.

Her mocking tone made Fairfax defensive. “I spoke with the doctors who do your monthly check-ups,” he said. “You weren’t pregnant.”

Starla stared at him. He’d already talked to the doctors. Well, isn’t that strange? Why would the doctors say she wasn’t pregnant?

“I also spoke with the doctors who treated you in the emergency room!” he added, his voice rising with frustration.

He didn’t have to finish. Starla understood perfectly. He had questioned every medical professional who had seen her, and they all gave him the same answer: she wasn’t pregnant.

There was nothing more to say. Harriet’s influence in Marina City was clearly absolute.

Fairfax tried to soothe her, picking up a piece of her favorite food with a fork and holding it to her lips. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “We’ll have children, okay?”

But his attempt at comfort was like gasoline on a fire. Starla’s anger flared. “How dare you talk to me about children?” she spat.

Even now, he was fantasizing about them having a family. It was laughable. He was a complete joke!

Divorce. Always divorce!

A vein pulsed in Fairfax’s temple. “Don’t even think about it,” he snarled. “A divorce is not happening!”

“Fine. Then I have all the time in the world to make Brinley’s life a living hell.”

He was so concerned about Brinley’s depression, wasn’t he? Let’s see how long Brinley could take it, and how long Fairfax could stand to see her suffer.

“How much more dirt do you have?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“A lot.”

The words came out without a hint of hesitation.