“Saving me from trouble? You really think too highly of yourself.”
Franco didn’t waste a second. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her straight out of the pharmacy, and pushed her into a black sedan waiting by the curb.
The door slammed shut behind her.
As Jay hit the central lock, the privacy screen slid up, closing them in.
Petty’s hand hovered on the door handle for a moment. Then she gave up, realizing there was no point in fighting him.
Franco sat back, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He flicked his lighter onto the armrest and glanced over at Petty. The wind had messed up her hair. She was curled up in the corner, looking for all the world like a stray puppy he’d once found on the street.
She watched as Franco tossed the birth control pills she’d just bought into the car’s trash can. Without thinking, she reached out for them.
Her hand was snatched in midair.
“You’d really dig them out of the trash? You want them that much?”
Franco’s grip tightened on her wrist, his dark eyes scanning her face. As soon as Petty spoke, his whole expression turned stormy.
“It’s not about wanting them. I just don’t want to have your baby.”
Once, she’d dreamed of having a child with Franco more than anything. But even fate hadn’t let her have that wish. A child was supposed to be a symbol of love. Franco didn’t love her, and she couldn’t give a child everything on her own. It was better to be practical now, before it was too late.
Her words made the air inside the car freeze.
In Cabinda, winter darkness came early. By five, the streetlights blinked on. The car rolled down an old street lined with food stalls, their signs glowing under the dim lamps. The whole street was filled with the warm, familiar smell of food and chatter.
Franco watched her in silence for a while. “You’ve really changed, Petty.”
She kept her eyes on the passing stalls outside. Her stomach was aching—she hadn’t eaten all day.
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