/1/103572/coverbig.jpg?v=6daba3e4c4d7ad37ccb73533844166f8)
n e-vite for my husband's son's firs
n his mistress, Hayden, had their son run to my husband,
iscarried the baby I had just discovered I was carrying. He left
e had me kidnapped and thrown off a cliff into a can
ng my pain into my work. Now, six months later, I'm ac
broken man rushing toward
the one who get
pte
Masse
ng on my tablet screen, for a child' s first birthday. The name on the inv
pped in the lingering warmth of the bed, the clean scent of our expensive linen filling my lungs. But the ima
fication vanished, swallowed by the digital ether, leaving only my usual clean home screen. It wa
s office. A woman I'd met once at a company holiday party. She' d been overly
. It was a Clarke. My Chase's last name. The possibility gnawed at me, turning my stomach sour. It
heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. I closed my eyes, trying t
art of me knew he would lie. He would gaslight. He would turn it around,
ays been our sanctuary, a testament to our shared life, our love. Now, it felt like a
e front door closing with a soft click that echoed the finality in my soul. Every step felt heavy, each
gs. It was a picture of perfect, uncomplicated joy. My eyes scanned the
My hu
olo shirt and khakis. He was laughing, a genuine, unrestrained sound I hadn't heard in year
this distance, held the same mischievous twinkle. There was no denying it. The child
hat made my stomach clench. It was the kind of fatherly affection I had
rietary gesture. She leaned in, whispering something in his ear, and he chuckled, pulling her closer. T
. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. Chase, my Chase, had built an entire parallel life. A l
liday parties. They were all there, cooing over Dallas, congratulating Chase and
r, the music, the cries of children – it all blended into a deafening roar. My carefully
uiet hum. My ears felt stuffed with cotton. My vision tunneled, t
ice soft, "Not now, Cali. My career is at a critical juncture. We need to focus on that. Our time will come." He h
me flowers, written me love notes. He' d been so charming, so devoted. When I' d fallen ill during my f
gine a life without you. You make me whole." He' d told me about his own dysfunctional family, the pa
my own burgeoning composing career on hold, supporting him, building a home, a ha
ght time. He had simply been living another life. A complete, unburdened life, while I waited, patiently, foolishly, for my t
joke. I watched him across the park, still holding Dallas, still laughing with Hayden. He hel
and familiar, filled my ear. "Just wrap
, and Hayden' s hushed voice. He did
my voice a strangled whisper
, his voice laced with feigned exhaustion. "
t them fall. Not here. Not now. "Chase," I said, my voice gaining
annoyance crossing his face before he quickly masked i
voice cracking despite m
his father' s distraction, tugged
away from his ear, fumbling with it. "I... I have to go, Cali. Emergency
softening into genuine parental adoration. Hayden watched them, a smug, sat
love, my entire future, had just disintegrated. All those years, all those dreams. They
s moving with a terrifying calm. I searched for a program, a fellowship I' d deferred years ago. A se
e betrayed wife, could die, a

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