She Was Never Me
I had once been the woman Theo Bennett would have risked his life to marry.
For six years after our wedding, he treated me like his entire world. He even had a matching tattoo carved into his lower abdomen, identical to mine, as proof of his devotion.
But in the seventh year, he coldly demanded that I make a full-body model for his kept woman.
"Catherine," he said, his voice sharp with contempt, "this is the price you pay for lying to me about being my savior. You know my tastes better than anyone. Make sure you replicate Hannah's body temperature. She's pregnant. I don't want to hurt her."
Hannah Moore lay limp in Theo's arms, laughing so hard her shoulders shook.
"How pathetic, Catherine," she mocked. "I'm pregnant, so I can't be with Theo. And yet he'd rather order a model of me than lay a finger on you. Once this one wears out, I guess I'll have to trouble you to make a few more copies of me."
Only then did I understand.
Theo had mistaken Hannah for the woman who once saved his life.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't argue.
I simply turned around and dialed Sebastian's number.
"Sebastian," I said calmly, "Theo is having an affair. I want a divorce."