ora

y it did nothing to quiet the storm in my head. I spent the day locked i

'd shrieked, her voice thick with

th. Which meant the person who

r

rfaced. Was it Julian?

eeded answers. I needed to s

the one I'd once thought was my dream home. N

hen I pushed open the

g down from the second floor. The same l

d turne

irs, each step a new form of torture. The d

ock. I shov

eld a glass of red wine. And lying on our bed-our marital bed-was a blonde with a s

model who clung to the fringes of the Chicago WAGs cir

t hardened into annoyance. He didn't even have

umphant, smug smile played on her lips as she

furrowed. "You're back early. We

d my lips. "Business? In our bed?

at Julian. It's my fault. I... I'm pregnant with his baby

gna

ind, shattering the last

sign of denial. There was none. Only impatience

marriage. All of it turned to ash

ength from a place I didn't know I had. My vo

ery, I want

ked, as if that possibility had never occurred to him.

ds me, reaching for my hand. "I know you're upset, but let

ot playing games. My lawyer will

e satisfaction of seeing my pain. As I walked away

e weight lifted from my shoulders. There were no

as o