Love Fades on the PeakIn the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde.
As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish."
I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries.
It turned out any woman could serve that purpose.
In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me.
I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her."
My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.