Chapter 170. Rage

Teyana’s POV

I had noticed it long before I admitted it to myself. John had stopped coming as often to the hospital to visit my mother.

At first, I told myself I was being unfair, that men like him—men who carried companies—underground duties on their backs and countries in their contacts, measured love differently. But hospitals have a way of stripping excuses bare.

You start noticing patterns when you spend every day staring at the same walls like I had for some time now in my mother’s ward.

My mother noticed too. She never said it outright, but she asked about him in ways that pretended not to ask.

“Were you in the house today? Did John eat today?”

“Did he mention if he’s traveling again?”

“Tell him not to rush. I’ll be fine.”

She was never fine.

And now, because I would need days of rest after the abortion—days where I wouldn’t be able to move without folding in on myself—someone else had to take my place beside her ho