Eden stayed in the dinghy hallway for some time, trying to wrap her mind around her encounter with Liam's ex, the gaping hole in her heart left by the other woman's words growing wider with each passing second she relived their exchange in her mind.
"No," she shook her head, trying to deny everything Laura had said. "There's no way Liam hates kids so much he'd want to get a vasectomy."
But he was with Laura for three years, and she knew him best.
The thought was enough to make Eden sick to her stomach, and she dashed back inside the restroom and spent some time there, puking out her lunch and glass of wine.
Liam was waiting for her outside the restroom when she came out some ten minutes later.
"Are you okay?" He asked, reaching for her. "You don't look okay."
"I'm fine," Eden said, pushing his hand away from her forehead when he tried to check her temperature.
"You're burning up," he murmured. "I'm taking you home."
She didn't get a chance to protest. Her eyes rolled back in her head as total darkness fell over her.
The next time she opened her eyes again, they were in the car, on their way to the penthouse—his fuckpad—and Eden lost her shit.
"Take me home, right now," she shrieked as she dragged herself away from him.
"You're not feeling well." Liam tried to force her back down on his lap. "Lie down."
But she wasn't having any of it. There's no way she'd go to his fuckpad ever again.
"I don't want to lie down." She screamed, bunching her hands into fists on her lap. "The penthouse, when did you say you bought it?"
"Why are you asking about that right now?" Liam frowned at her, confusion swimming in his eyes.
"When?" Eden demanded, stilling her heart from the truth. "How many women did you take there?"
"Are you honestly asking me that?" He looked thoroughly incensed by her question. "What the fuck do you take me for?"
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