sson

efore heading to the shower. "Morning, love! Thought we could make up for the

nt to go, assumed I' d still be his pliant wife, eager for his attention. This was his version of a

ing me. He ordered my favorite wine without asking, cut my steak into perfect bite-sized pieces, and refilled my w

ng? Shall I ask them

bright? I can ask f

"I hate letting you go, Allisson," he murmured, his thumb stroki

aze fixed on the intricate patterns of the t

his relentless performance, drew

spered to her husband. "He' s Caden Hurst, the develop

akes you believe in fai

on, approached our table. "Mr. and Mrs. Hurst? We

beamed. "Of course, dea

effortless. I managed a strained smile

best," the woman gushe

lder. "Forever, indeed

s, I decided, the words e

e. He' d glance at it discreetly, then quickly put it away

ing today," he' d say, but his eyes h

ream. My blood ran cold. Quickly, I pulled out

Live. From this

ing surprise my... friend... got for me today!" She held up a small, elegant box. "He booked out

d. "Who' s your sugardaddy,

guy who knows how to treat a girl right." She winked at the camera, a smirk play

place Caden had brought her. This was the gift he' d given her. The very same restaurant, th

Your boyfriend is richer than Caden Hurst!" "N

ymous account. And a message, bold and clear, popping up for all the world to see: "M

ross his face. It wasn't the practiced, public smile. It was real. A genuine, ungu

rusty knife into my chest and twisted. No, not a knife. It was worse. It wa