“Don’t make me look foolish,” she quietly says, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Today, you belong to me.” I don’t miss the icy look she shoots me, nor the scorching fury it ignites in my chest. “I’m so sorry,” I cut in, matching her tense, frigid smile. “But Wicker belongs to me first and foremost, especially on an occasion meant to honor the mother of his child.”
