I Walked Away With His Love Child

Chapter 3

I was ready to leave, but Fiona wasn't having it. She made it her mission to humiliate me in front of everyone.

"Do you seriously think you deserve to talk to me?" she sneered, giving me a once-over. "Just look at yourself. That outfit is a joke."

Then she added with fake concern, "Tell you what, I'll be generous. I can hook you up with a job here as a server. Learn to smile, pour wine, say 'yes, ma'am', you could be making five figures a month."

Someone nearby, clearly trying to win points with her, chimed in with a smirk, "This is a five-star hotel in the heart of Ocean City. Working here? It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You should be thanking Miss Fiona."

With people blocking my path, I had no choice but to respond.

"Thanks," I said, keeping my voice even. "But I already have a job."

"As a photographer."

The second I said it, Gideon glanced at me, his expression flickering. His lips twitched slightly, but whatever emotion was there disappeared just as fast.

He looked away, voice cool and condescending. "How much can you actually make doing that? Let's be real, hobbies don't pay the bills. But hey, since we go way back, I can help you out. I've got connections."

I blinked, startled for a moment, then it hit me. He thought I was still into photography because of him.

What a joke.

When I saw that suicide note in my past life, the one he left me on our honeymoon, written in blood, filled with love for Fiona, I stopped loving him entirely.

When I got this second chance, all the money I'd once spent on his dream, on his cameras, his gear, was still tied up in that equipment. I couldn't return any of it, so I used it myself. And little by little, I genuinely fell in love with photography.

This time, it wasn't about chasing someone else's passion. It was mine.

I gave him a polite smile, my tone distant. "I earn enough to support myself. But thanks for the offer."

The light in Gideon's eyes dimmed. He clearly didn't appreciate being turned down.

"Suit yourself," he said through gritted teeth. "Just don't come crying to me when you realize you need help."

I didn't bother telling him that my work had already been published in national outlets, even picked up by a few international magazines. Licensing fees alone brought in more than he made.

But dressed the way I was, hair messy, clothes wrinkled, I didn't exactly scream "successful artist." And even if I told him the truth, he'd write it off as a lie.

Honestly, it was my son's fault. He begged me to play in the sandbox with him, and while I was distracted, he slipped out again. I rushed out the door in my pajamas without even thinking to change.

Right then, a hotel staff member pointed at me with suspicion. "That's Balenciaga, isn't it? Where'd you get those clothes? You work here? What, stealing from a guest's closet?"

I frowned. "Why couldn't they be mine?"

Fiona burst out laughing. "Yours? Don't flatter yourself. What kind of rich woman looks like that?"

She pinched her nose dramatically. "Ugh, probably didn't even wash them. Disgusting."

Gideon studied me, his brow creased tight. "Adeline... have you really fallen this far? And you're still pretending everything's fine?"