After a long time, I picked up my phone and dialed a number.
When I got home, Blake's Bentley was parked right out front.
Through the cracked window, a man's breathy moans drifted out.
"Call me husband."
"Husband..."
"Who do you love most?"
"So obedient. I'd give my life for you."
I stood frozen in place, every drop of color drained from my face.
The summer sun was brutal and scorching, but I felt like I'd been plunged into a blizzard.
An hour later, Blake walked in with a petite woman draped against his side.
The moment Fiona Whitmore saw me sitting in the living room, her eyes welled up as though she'd suffered the greatest injustice of her life.
"Why is she here? You told me this was our home!"
"Were you lying to me? You still can't let her go?"
"I don't care how much I love you—I will never sell my dignity to be some mistress. I'm leaving. Right now!"
Blake scrambled to grab her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight against his chest. "What are you thinking? Our marriage certificate has the official seal on it. You're my wife. Of course this is our home. She's just here to pack her things."
He looked at me. No explanation. No apology.