"Then again, that wife of his always acted so proper. Now that someone else knocked her up, what—is she pulling the same trick that dancer did, using a baby to claw her way in?"
His silence and the guests' cutting laughter sliced through my chest like a blade.
No wonder every time Conrad and I were in bed together, he'd coax me into turning off the lights.
I thought it was just his preference in bed.
I never imagined the truth was that ugly.
The memory of skin against skin with "Conrad" flooded back, and my stomach lurched.
I scrubbed at my own skin in disgust, rubbing until the red streaks showed, and still I couldn't stop.
Tears pooled in my eyes. The joy I'd felt learning I was pregnant had turned to shame.
He promised me a home, and he was the one who destroyed it.
I swallowed the acid burning in my throat, pulled off my wedding ring, and tossed it into the trash.
The band circled the rim once before dropping in, its sharp ring cutting clean through the noise of the banquet hall.
Childhood sweethearts. Three years of marriage held together by one promise. And now it was just—over.
"Let's get a divorce." The words left me slowly.