Chapter 3
Seriously? That was the excuse Cheryl was rolling with now? Who even made up rules like that?
She waved her hand, acting all magnanimous as she explained.
"Where I'm from, you can't name the baby unless the godfather shows up in person. Seriously, how do you not know that? Maybe you just don't care enough about me," she teased, pulling a dramatic pout.
Yeah, right. Some "family tradition." She was obviously just using it as one more excuse to see Eric.
"Fine, whatever you say," I said, giving in with a sigh.
After that, I headed back to my room, trying to figure out what to do next.
Late that night, I walked out of the bedroom and saw Cheryl sitting by herself on the balcony, phone pressed to her ear.
I quietly snuck closer, making sure not to get caught, and managed to hear everything.
"Eric, I feel bad for dragging you into this. I honestly have no clue why he was acting so weird tonight, insisting you be the godfather," Cheryl said, her voice tinged with concern.
Eric sounded really understanding on the other end.
"Don't worry about it, Cheryl. As long as you and the baby are doing alright, that's all that matters to me," he replied, his tone soft and comforting.
Cheryl was so swayed that she looked ready to hand Eric her whole heart. Right there, nothing held back.
"Eric, relax. I've already started taking action. Before the baby comes, I'll make sure to take everything he owns," she said, her voice full of resolve.
"Then it'll finally be just the three of us—our perfect little family, with no one else in the way," she said with a soft, dreamy tone.
Wait, what did she mean? She'd already started?
As I turned her words over in my mind, a cold realization hit me—the warm milk she gave me right before bed.
Normally, she wouldn't even lift a finger to warm up milk for me. She'd gripe if I just asked her to charge my phone.
So there was definitely something sketchy about that milk.
My skin crawled all over. Was she seriously trying to poison me?
"Goodnight, Eric." Cheryl's sweet voice drifted over from the balcony.
I scrambled back to bed before she could find out I'd been eavesdropping.
"Honey, what were you up to just now?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, but my mind was racing.
I reached out to put my hand on her belly, but she coolly brushed it away without even looking at me.
"I want to talk to you about something," Cheryl said, hesitation flickering in her voice.
"What is it?" I replied, deliberately acting clueless.
"Never mind. Honestly, just seeing you puts me in a lousy mood," Cheryl grumbled, brushing me off.
The next morning, Cheryl plopped down in front of me, with huge dark circles under her eyes, looking totally wiped out.
"Look, we seriously need to sign an agreement," she snapped, not leaving any room for debate.
So she'd spent the whole night obsessing over this.
"Fine, what kind of agreement?" I sighed. She immediately started rattling off a whole list of stuff she wanted me to promise I wouldn't mess up until the baby was born.
Basically, if I did anything against our marriage during this period, I'd have to leave with nothing—no money, no property, absolutely zilch.
Typical. She was accusing me of what she was guilty of. If these rules applied to her, we'd have been divorced ten times over.
"Honey, come on. If you really love me, this shouldn't be a problem, right?" Cheryl said, her voice soft and coaxing.
I could make that promise, but could she?
"Sure, I'll sign it," I replied, my voice steady but with a hint of coldness.
Her eyes practically sparkled the moment she heard that.
"But on one condition," I added, not letting her take full control of the situation.