tcase I' d hidden under the bed. Photos from our life together were on the nightstand. I picked up the silver frame

thes and memories. He came up behind me and wrapped h

ured into my hair, his tone soft and cajo

ords and a guilty consci

ver touch me again. But I couldn't. Not yet. I lea

my voice flat.

nd. "I know today was difficult. Christie can be... intense.

y auction tonight at the Plaza. Get dressed. We' l

d buy my forgivene

to go," I sai

e turning into a thin, hard line. "We'

defy him. I looked away first. There was no point in fighting thi

said, the

t the auction, he made a show of doting on me, buying a

husband!" a woman whispered be

n public, a glittering facade to hide the ugly truth of what he did to me in private. He bought me a new phone after

just another pie

attention to Christie, and I would be forgotten. In my past life, he would event

d some air," I mumbled, and

r end of the ballroom drew my attention. I pushed thro

an pinned against the wall, his

touch her again,

ng, "I' m sorry, Mr. Phelps, I

askew, a hand pressed to her chest as if in ter

drunk executive, had stumbled into Christie. Declan had seen it and lo

d to protect me. The thoug

s voice echoing in the suddenly silent room. He was establishin

around Christie' s shoulders

thing happe

raged, scrambled to his feet. He pulled a sma

I screamed, my voi

reacted with a cold, brutal pragmatism. He yanked my arm, pulling me directl

e-hot pain expl

ife was sticking out of my abdomen.

lted. My vis

flicker of something that might have been panic, as h

his voice tight with al

was so thick I could taste it, metallic and

ything we