How did he learn how to crack an egg?

"That moron!" Ava groaned, slamming the door behind her with a theatrical huff that could've easily won her a local drama award.

She stormed into the room like a tiny, hormonal hurricane in heels, her cheeks flushed with rage and her brain sizzling like overcooked garlic.

"I swear to all things holy, if he threatens me again one more time—" She stopped mid-rant, hands frozen in the air. Her gaze dropped to her stomach.

Right. The baby.

"Breathe, Ava. Breathe," she muttered to herself like a yoga instructor who hated yoga. She inhaled slowly through her nose, exhaled through her mouth, and counted to five, then twenty-five, then gave up counting altogether. Calmness was trying its best, but her temper was just too dramatic today.