sed to be a testament to our shared dreams. But then a woman named Gemma Chan entered o
nnor was forced to choose between me, his wife, and Gemma,
cruel lie. Later, in the hospital, I overheard him confessing his love for Gemma, sealing my fate. The ultimate
h me. I had loved him with every fiber of my being, and he
of our shattered life, and sold my shares in our company to
pte
were bound behind my back, the rough rope digging into my wrists. Across from me, Connor, my h
ng. "Connor, I'm so scared," she whim
e leveled his gun at Connor. "You're a lucky man, Connor Jones. CEO of Apex Dy
ou walk out of here with one of them. The other one stays. So, who's i
s met mine, and for a split second, I saw the man I
oked up at him, her eyes wide and brim
it. The ghost of her father, his fellow soldier who
" Connor said, h
years. Ten years of love, of partnership, of build
ook at me. He went straight to Gemma, helping
to her, his voice imposs
ture of intimacy, of a bond that clearly went deeper than gui
nced back at me. His face was a mask of regret. "Ha
lt. A lie floating in t
eavy metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing t
ellowed teeth. "Looks like your husband
ions burning in his eyes. "But do
hed, a greasy, t
whispere
te, raw sound that tore from my
nging silence of his betrayal. H
er me. I would not let them touc
w, I could see the dark, murky water of
he only thing I could. I threw myself backwar
lass and splintered wood. Then, t
pulled me down. I struggled, my lungs burning
re we drew up the plans for Apex Dynamics on a napkin. The day he proposed, promising we would conqu
m with every piece of my being.
as a profound, bottomle
.
of a machine and the sterile
tting by my bed, his head in his hand
ice thick with emotion.
but I pulled it away. Hi
voice cracking. "I had no c
ingless drone. He was sorry. He w
nt of me wasn't the husband I loved.
it was his duty to care for the fragile, traumatized daughter of his fallen comrade. I tried to be understanding, but his "duty" quickly became an obsession. He missed our a
eved him. I had believed in
oking at the man who had aband
no longer his wife