LOGINMARY'S POV:Alistair's head snapped toward me."I said apologize to her." His voice was ice. "Right now."I stared at him.At the man kneeling on the floor beside another woman. At the man who had missed his daughter's birthday. At the man who had left me in a jail cell overnight. At the man who had just asked me to apologize for something I hadn't done."Right now, Mary," he repeated. His voice rose, filling the room. "Apologize."I didn't even bother responding.There were no words left. No arguments left. No tears left. I had spent them all, every single one and won't anymore.I turned around and walked into the house. The door closed behind me with a solid click, shutting out the cold air and the lamplight and the sound of Vesper's soft, practiced whimpers.The foyer was dark. The living room was dark. The whole house felt empty, hollowed out, as if someone had scooped out the insides and left nothing but the shell.Behind me, I heard footsteps on the porch. Then knocking. Loud an
MARY'S POV:She was standing exactly where I had left her, her hand still in Alistair's, her expression wounded and innocent. The slip dress hung from her shoulders like a second skin, pale silk that made her look fragile. Untouchable and definitely the kind of woman you wanted to protect.The kind of woman I would never be.I didn't answer. What was there to say? She had already won. She must have known it. Must have felt it, the way the room had shifted, the way Alistair had chosen her, the way I was standing alone in the doorway of my own home wearing another man's coat.Alistair stepped forward, his voice hardening."You can't just leave."I raised my eyebrows."I won't allow it." His jaw was tight, his eyes blazing with something that looked like anger but felt like something else. Something closer to fear. "You're angry right now. I understand that. But does that mean you've done nothing wrong? Vesper was here first. If anyone has been hurt the most in all of this, it's her."Ve
MARY'S POV:"No."The answer came so quickly that even Vesper looked surprised.For a brief moment, her hand loosened from Alistair's arm. Her fingers slid away, inch by inch, her composure cracking just long enough for me to see the woman beneath the mask. Then Alistair reached over and held onto hers, his fingers wrapping around her palm like he was afraid she might disappear.I watched his hand cover hers. Watched the way his thumb traced small circles on her skin, gentle and absent, the way he used to touch me when we were young and I still believed in forever.I wasn't surprised.Not anymore.The man standing before me was a stranger wearing my husband's face. I had spent the past year learning the shape of his silences, the weight of his absences, the way he could fill a room without ever really being present. But this—this casual claiming of her hand in front of me, this public choosing—was something new.Something I should have expected.Something I should have prepared for.B
MARY'S POV:I turned around.Alistair stood in the doorway of the living room, his tie loosened, his shirt untucked, his eyes fixed on the oversized suit jacket draped across my shoulders. Behind him, the lamps cast long shadows across the floor. The half‑empty glass of whiskey on the side table. The evidence of a night spent waiting.He frowned as he looked toward the driveway, still visible through the open front door."Who was that?"I didn't answer. My fingers curled into the wool of Marl's coat, holding it closed.Behind Alistair, footsteps padded down the stairs. Light. Vesper stepped out, wearing a delicate slip dress, pale that caught the low light. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders, and her feet were bare. She looked like she had just woken up, or like she had never gone to sleep.Following his gaze, she smiled lightly."Maybe it was a friend she met at one of those parties," she said. "After all, the man was driving a Lamborghini Huracán." She tilted her head, he
MARY'S POV: I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. My throat was tight, my chest full of something that felt like gratitude and grief and a hundred other things I couldn't name. Marl leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxing slightly. "Besides," he said, "I've benefited from your talents too. Before I tasted your cooking, I had no idea there was a proper way to eat turkey." I laughed again. A real laugh this time, surprising myself. "You're lying." "I'm not. I used to think turkey was just... dry chicken. Then I had yours, and I understood what all the fuss was about." "That was three years ago. Thanksgiving. Alistair invited a bunch of people over." "I remember." His eyes met mine. "I asked him who catered the meal. He said he did. I knew he was lying, but I didn't push it. I figured it was someone close to him or his housekeeper, and either way, it wasn't my business." "And now?" "Now I know it was you. And I think you deserve more credit than you've ever
MARY'S POV:The gesture was meant to hide my expression, to give myself a moment to compose my thoughts. But the moment my palm touched my skin, something in me cracked and surprisingly, I didn't even have the energy to be heartbroken anymore.I was exhausted and I kept my hand over my face and breathed. In, out, in and out.The car was quiet once again and Marl didn't speak. He didn't reach for me. He didn't offer any empty platitudes or useless comfort. He just sat there, his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes on the road ahead, giving me the space I needed to fall apart.The silence stretched between us, long and heavy, filled with everything I couldn't say.When I finally lowered my hand, my face was wet. I hadn't noticed the tears falling. They had just come, the way rain comes, without warning or permission."Sorry," I whispered."You have nothing to apologize for.""I'm crying in your car and in your coat. I probably look insane."He glanced at me, and something flickered ac
ELIJAH’S POV:The envelope arrived the next morning.It was delivered to the house, which was the first thing that was wrong. Not to my office. Not to Martinez Holdings. To the house, which meant whoever sent it knew where we lived. There was no return address. No stamp. Which meant it had been han
HANNAH’S POV:"They're just honest," I replied, and he smiled.It was a small moment. A normal moment. And for a second, I felt like maybe I could be normal again too.At night, Elijah would lie beside me, one arm draped over my waist, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin like a silent reassur
HANNAH’S POV:"It's okay," I said gently with a smile and I meant it. It really was okay, I was going to be back. They couldn't keep me down for long.She looked genuinely upset. "It was so beautiful. The craftsmanship, the meaning behind it... I cried watching the teaser video.""You cried?" I ask
HANNAH'S POV:TWO DAYS LATER:After I received the news about the fire, I was shattered. The long nights, the designs, the investment in the purchase of high quality materials, the tireless working and signing of multiple documents and shipments. They all went down the drain like it had never happe







