Chapter 216

Teresa knew Jennifer as well as Jennifer knew her. But when Jennifer said, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this abortion myself,” Teresa still felt a shiver run through her.

“So, you’re really going to do the abortion yourself?” Teresa said coldly. “Hannah, you’re heartless.”

“What’s wrong with that? I’m doing this for your own good,” Jennifer snapped, her face pale from a restless night. “You’re barely pregnant. It’s not even a baby yet—no heartbeat, no life. This is the best time to end it. Now, get out of the car,” Jennifer added.

Teresa got out. As soon as she stepped away, she yanked her hand free from Jennifer’s. Her eyes blazed with determination and deep disappointment.

“You know what? I wish I could go back and erase you from my life, as if I never had a sister like you,” Teresa said.

Jennifer stood stunned, while Teresa hailed a taxi and left. Tears welled up in Jennifer’s eyes. The pain was unbearable—like she’d been betrayed by the person she trusted most.

When Teresa arrived at the office, she found a tall, slender man waiting in the lobby. “Truman,” she greeted him.

“Just saw your message this morning,” Truman said with a warm smile. “What’s up? Got some psychological problems?”

“Yeah,” Teresa replied. “It’s been ages. Honestly, I thought you’d left the field.”

“I just took a long break for New Year’s—two months off. Now that spring’s here, I’m back at work.”

“Ah, I see,” Teresa said.

Truman studied her. “You’ve been busy? Seems like you’ve got something on your mind. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have reached out. Is your anxiety acting up again? Or is it something about your grandparents?”

Teresa sighed deeply and shook her head, explaining it was her sister, her mother, and her son. Everything was crushing her.

“But didn’t your parents divorce? Why are they still getting to you? And aren’t you their only child?” he asked.

“It’s complicated,” Teresa said. Jennifer’s control over her had gotten out of hand. She was obsessed, acting like Teresa was her only family and trying to control every aspect of Teresa’s life. It was suffocating.

“Did your sister go through something traumatic as a child?” Truman asked.

“Yeah,” Teresa admitted. “She’s had a tough life—so much hardship and exhaustion. At first, I thought I could just endure it and let her have her way. But she’s only gotten worse.”

“If she’s got the time, I’d be happy to talk to her. Maybe I can help her work through some of it.”

“Thank you,” Teresa said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it. No need to be so formal with me,” Truman replied.

Truman’s gaze was gentle, while Teresa’s smile carried a hint of polite distance. He had been helpful. During her darkest days of depression and anxiety in her marriage, Truman had been there, guiding her through it all. She trusted him completely.

Suddenly, Teresa’s phone rang, and her expression shifted. Truman smiled faintly, his eyes holding a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite read. “Guess something urgent came up. Go ahead and take care of it.”

“Alright, see you later,” Teresa replied.

It was a message from Irene, demanding an immediate meeting.

When Teresa arrived at the parking lot and stepped out of her car, Irene stormed over, her face twisted with rage. She looked ready to throw a punch. Annoyed, Teresa shoved her aside without hesitation.

‘Who does she think she is, charging at me like that? Does she think I’m just going to stand here and take it?’ Teresa scoffed inwardly. She wasn’t about to put up with her.

“Do you have to ruin my son? Three years ago, he threw away countless promotions for you. Do you even realize how hard he worked to get where he is now?” Irene’s voice was sharp. “And now you want to destroy him? What do you want?”

“How the hell did I ruin him? Stop yapping like a rabid dog and just spit it out already,” Teresa snapped.

Irene faltered, her eyes flickering with panic. It was like something serious had happened, and this wasn’t the place for an argument. She waved Teresa over to her car—a red Volvo she’d been driving since Teresa was still with Jonathan.

Seeing how uneasy Irene was, Teresa got in. Irene practically threw a stack of photos at her. They were the same ones Evelyn had received. In every shot, Teresa and Jonathan were together, looking like they were having a good time; Jonathan was holding her hand, and she wasn’t pulling away.

“I’ve been wondering why he’s been so hard to reach lately, vanishing without a word. Turns out he’s been running to you. He won’t answer my calls, but the second you call, he picks up faster than a hotline operator, right?” Irene snapped.

Teresa let out a cold laugh. “If you want to call your own son a hotline operator, be my guest. He’s not my kid, anyway.” ‘So this is what Irene is so worked up about? She really thinks this is enough to accuse me of ruining Jonathan? No wonder she seemed so frantic,’ Teresa thought.

“Fine, let’s say I don’t care about you two going out together. But take a look at this.” Irene threw a folder at Teresa; it contained a photo and a document. “See for yourself. This time, you really might destroy my son,” Irene said, her voice trembling with anger.

Puzzled, Teresa took out the photo. Her brows knitted tightly as her eyes landed on the man standing next to Jonathan.