Now, I stood behind his glittering wedding, my baby asleep on my chest. When he saw me, his smile vanished. “What are you doing here?” he hissed. I whispered, “Giving you what you’ve forgotten… and taking back what you’ve stolen.” Then the music stopped.
Six weeks after my husband left me and our newborn to die in a blizzard, I stood behind the wedding tent with my baby breathing softly against my chest. The music inside was sweet, expensive, and cruel.
Snow whispered across the lawn of the Caldwell estate, dusting the glass walls of the heated pavilion where Ethan was marrying Sabrina Monroe, his mistress, his secretary, and the woman who had smiled at my baby shower while wearing my husband’s watch on her wrist.
