up the smell of stale coffee. It was a smell I hated, a smell that clung to the cheap furni

f noble sacrifice. "Sabrina' s family... they' re in deep with a loan shark.

ed to be getting married in a month. Our invitations, printed on heavy cream cardstock with our initials embossed in

, pleading eyes. "It' s just temporary. A way to protect her. Once the threat is gone, I' ll divor

as my fiancé, but as a stranger. The man standing before me was a weak, insecure person who was using a flimsy, ridiculous

ern my family' s foundation had sponsored, walked into a room. He saw her as a project, a fragile bird with a broken wing that he, th

e remained calm. I reached into my Hermès bag, my hand steady, and pulled out a single,

it across the polished surface

asked, a flicker of c

said, my voice even

lief. "Very funny, Joce. A little jealou

ew Lester. It' s on the same day we were s

clean away. He looked from the invitation back

re bluf

m I

e, her eyes wide and tear-filled. "Ethan," she whispered, her voice trembling.

o one of protective concern. He rushed to her side, patting her back gent

hard with accusation. "See what yo

tor and his damsel in distress. It was nauseating. Without another word, I turned and