My jaw drops to her text and I reread it in disbelief. I'm struck with horror by her sudden capability of recognising me instantly. How does she know me? I don't put our wedding photos or Saint's publicly for anyone to see. Is it in my name?

Desperate for quick explanation, I call her straight away via the same app.

"What's your problem now?" the tone of a female voice in a thick Australian accent from the other line elevates in response.

'Why must it be a problem?' I say to myself.

"No, I don't have any problem with you. I just want to return the bag–"

"You think I'm a flammin' galah? You don't call me for that. You still want to pick a fight with me even after you nabbed my man!" she cuts of mid sentence.

"In what sense do I owe you a fight?" I debunk her immature accusation. "Yes, I am that bitch, but I don't steal him from you. You're the one who quit on him because of your precious career."

"My career is manageable, excuse me! I left him because he wants you back," she argues back.

"But that's not what he said," I hiss to avoid Saint from overhearing my stressed voice. "He loved you. He even tried to find time for you."

"And you believe him? Damn, you're such an idiot!" she ridicules me. "If he tried to find time for me, he should've show up to any of my events instead of making dumb excuses like watching some stupid play. I know he was with you every time he pulled out the last minute."

"But I thought–"

"If he loved me so much, he shouldn't be yapping about you in our every conversation, it sickens me to hear your fucking name all the time!" she roars.

As much as I'm annoyed by her interjection, I bet she's more resented by Saint's careless behaviour towards her.

"But he planned last year's Penang race for you," I defend.

"No! The Penang race was his breakup plan. God, you're so stupid!" she groans exasperatedly before ending the call.

I try to text her back for a settlement but she immediately blocked me for reconnection. This is unnerving. I was a happy mother-to-be with no repentance for me to brood over. Now, I'm unsure if I can maintain such feelings without thinking of what other secrets that Saint's been hiding me from.

Am I unwillingly became the third wheel, a spur to their frayed relationship? I'm not entirely mad at him for feeding me lies to win my heart, but for what cause? So, that his heart can be fulfilled? What about Anita's? Doesn't she matter to him?

Saint walks into the room, finishing the conversation while I force to regain my composure even though it's struggling.

"How's your mom doing?" I ask him softly after he ends the call.

"No, it's your mom," he replies casually.

I gape at him. I didn't usually bother when he had lengthy chats with Mom without putting me through, but this time I feel offended. It's an after effect from Anita's spiteful ranting on me.

"Doesn't she want to talk to me?" I ask in astonishment.

"She'll call you tonight," Saint assures. "She can't talk to you right now, Safwan's there. She might pour her emotions out if she hears your voice."

Saint's explanation is plausible, though. Mom has the tendency to bawl herself away over something sentimental, especially on me. And although I'm still not used to with Saint calling Dad by his first name, I don't object to his remarks either.

"And he doesn't find out you called?" I query.

"No, she renames my contact to 'Jasmin Curry Puff' so I won't get busted," he admits cheekily.

"Is she alright? How is she and everyone at home?" I force a conversation to get my mind off Anita.

"You know that it's just Mom and Safwan at home, right?" Saint poses. "Other than having on and off chest pains, she's doing fine. But can you believe she skipped her doctor's appointment last Monday because everyone else is too occupied to accompany her to the hospital? Safwan is too lazy to drive, that good for nothing Maheera has got herself engaged with her work and TKC friends to even bother to check up on Mom. And Hardy is way more apathetic than the two combined!

"I offered to escort her on her next appointment, but she refused because she doesn't want Safwan to know. Anyways, what exactly happened to Kay? Mom said he totally cut ties with all of you since that IT job he took up in Osaka 12 years ago."

Anita's right. Saint does blabber over things he's passionate about. However, I can't pay attention to his whole harping on my family affairs, I'm still shaken from the call.

I only manage to mutter "yeah" to his question out of consciousness just to satisfy the conversation, but I know it wouldn't help much.

He snaps his fingers at me. "My beautiful, are you with me?"

"Sorry!" I retreat from my deep thinking and attempt a smooth recovery. "It just feels awkward when you call my father 'Safwan', it got me thinking."

His responds to my weak explanation with a wary look. "Your answer doesn't jive with your facial expression. You look more disturbed rather than annoyed even before I'm done talking to Mom."

He caught me lying once again. It would seem fair if I were to talk to him about the call I had with Anita just now. Yet, I hold my tongue, thinking that he might get upset with me for trying to reach Anita in the first place.

I think of an explanation acceptable enough for him to grasp, just to conceal my troubled mind.

"I'm shocked by the amount of items we bought at IKEA today," is my best answer. "I mean, do you think spending RM5,000.00 for all this baby stuff is worth the investment?"

Saint half-heartedly accepts my answer but doesn't object either. "They won't go to waste. We can pass it on to the younger siblings later. You promised me at least another four, remember? We shook hands to it."

I'm amazed by Saint's ability to recall small significant events like that. I thought he would let the reminiscing job to me.

"It's three now," I correct him.

"The first one doesn't count, that one's on you," he smirks.

I wrap my arms around his torso to break myself from this jittery feeling. But I'm envied by his chiselled abs pressed against my face. "Honestly, I'm nervous right now, for the baby and for us."

Saint responds to my hugging and caresses my back as we embrace. "I'm nervous too actually. But we're in this together, aren't we?"

'We are but how can I trust you when you lie to me about Anita?' I say quietly.

"How I wish my family was here to support us," I say dishearteningly.

The room goes silent except that I can hear the beating of our hearts pounding in the same rhythm until Saint's went slightly faster than mine. Then, he heaves out a loud begrudging breath above me that I feel slightly uncomfortable by it.

"It's time for you to accept the fact that the only family you have is just me, Mommy and soon the baby," he mutters bitterly and releases me from the hugging. "I'm heading for the shower and you can join me if you want. The IKEA guys will be here soon."

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