Isla Simmons's POV

Karen Frank didn't even look me in the eye. She pushed right past me, grabbed Camilla's hand, her face full of artificial concern.

"Sweetheart, why did you come running over here?" she chided hypocritically. "You just had a baby, you should be resting well. Harding, how could you let her run out?"

Camilla whimpered softly, burying her face into Harding's shoulder, but she quickly stole a glance at me, her eyes full of provocation.

"Isla, what exactly did you do?" Karen spun around and interrogated me, her voice shrill. "What right do you have to upset her? She just gave birth!"

"Whose child?" I asked coldly. "Isn't it your son's? Isn't it the child your whole family knew perfectly well about, yet kept treating me like a fool while I planned a wedding?"

Karen sneered with utter contempt. "Don't play the saint. You're nothing but a poor girl after money, latching onto my son. Camilla comes from a prominent family; she is the one truly worthy of Harding."

"I latched onto him?" I raised my voice in disbelief. "When he had nothing, I worked two jobs to help pay the rent for his rundown apartment! And now you're telling me I latched onto him?"

"You were never good enough for him." Karen became even more vicious. "We only tolerated you back then because Harding found you somewhat novel. Camilla is the one who can give him a future, not some penniless girl from a single-parent home like you."

Her insult toward my mother stabbed me deeply.

"He loves her, yet he wanted to marry me?" I retorted, suppressing my rage. "Loved her enough to let her secretly give birth outside while making me plan the wedding? That's not love, that's shameless!"

Before I could finish speaking, a loud smack rang out. Karen slapped me hard across the face. My cheek burned with pain.

"How dare you speak about my son that way!" she shrieked.

"Mom, don't do that," Harding finally spoke up, though his tone was weak and powerless.

"Mind your own business!" Karen snapped at him. "This is what happens when you let lower-class girls like this through the door—absolutely no breeding. Camilla is a true socialite; she would never cause a scene like this."

Camilla was still sobbing. She pulled back slightly from Harding's embrace, looking at Karen with teary eyes. "Karen, please don't. It's not Isla's fault. I... I made a mistake too." Her voice was so low it could barely be heard, performing her frailty perfectly.

Karen's tone instantly softened. "Sweetheart, you're just too kindhearted, that's why you get bullied by this woman."

Camilla turned to me again, reaching out a hand, her voice perfectly mimicking fragile remorse. "Isla, I am truly, from the bottom of my heart, sorry. I never thought it would turn out like this."

I stared at this hand that had once promised me a lifelong friendship.

"Are you sorry for getting caught, or are you sorry for destroying my life?" I asked coldly.

She flinched. "I... I just wanted to be loved. Harding was too good to me."

"Now you've gotten what you wanted—him, and his child. Are you satisfied?"

She shook her head, tears raining down. "No! I never wanted to hurt you!"

I could no longer bear to watch this nauseating performance. I turned and walked toward the door.

"Isla, wait!" Harding chased after me and grabbed my arm. "Don't go. We need to fix this."

"Fix what?" I violently shook off his hand. "Your mother just hit me, humiliated me, and you stood there like a piece of garbage. We are done."

"She was just overly emotional!" he pleaded desperately. "She just wants what's best for me."

"And who cared about me?" I fired back sharply. "When have you ever stood up to protect me?"

He stared at the floor, speechless.

"I spent eight years giving you everything. I trusted you, supported you. And what I got in return was betrayal, and a family that looked down on me from the very beginning."

I walked out the door without looking back, leaving Harding's shouts, Karen's roaring, and Camilla's fake sobbing far behind me, completely walking out of those absurd eight years of my life.