Chapter 1 - THE SLAP
The bride slapped me before I even knew what I was being accused of.
“You ruined my dress!”
Her palm cracked across my face so hard my left ear rang.
The entire bridal salon went silent.
I stumbled backward, clutching the ivory gown I had been carrying for another customer. One side slipped from my arms and nearly hit the marble floor.
“Ma’am, I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
The blonde woman stepped off the fitting platform, dragging six thousand dollars’ worth of lace behind her.
A small tear showed near her hip.
Her jeweled bracelet was still hooked into the fabric.
I pointed at it.
“Your bracelet caught the lace.”
She looked down.
For half a second, she knew I was right.
Then embarrassment changed into anger.
“You touched it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Her face hardened.
People like her didn’t hear the word no very often.
She raised her hand again.
This time, somebody caught her wrist.
“That’s enough.”
My entire body locked.
Not because someone had finally stepped in.
Because I knew that voice.
I had spent ten years trying to forget it.
Slowly, I looked up.
Dark suit.
Broad shoulders.
A little gray near the temples now.
And those same dark eyes that had once looked at me across a courthouse desk while we signed a marriage license with shaking hands.
Daniel Vale.
He turned toward me.
The anger vanished from his face.
“Elena?”
I forgot how to breathe.
Ten years.
Ten years since the envelope arrived.
Ten years since I read the words DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE while sitting alone on the floor of our apartment.
Ten years since every phone call went unanswered.
Ten years since I packed two suitcases and disappeared from a life I thought no longer wanted me.
The blonde woman jerked her arm free.
“Daniel, what the hell are you doing?”
He didn’t answer her.
He stared at me.
I bent quickly to pick up the fallen gown.
“I’m sorry. I need to get back to work.”
“Elena, wait.”
I tried to walk past him.
His hand touched my arm.
Gently.
That almost hurt worse.
“Please.”
I looked at his hand until he let go.
The bride gave a sharp laugh.
“Why are you protecting a salesgirl?”
Daniel finally looked at her.
“She’s not a salesgirl.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Then who is she?”
His eyes came back to me.
“She’s my wife.”
Nobody moved.
The bride’s mouth fell open.
My eyes burned.
I hated that.
I had promised myself years ago I would never cry over Daniel Vale again.
I whispered, “If I’m your wife, why did you send me divorce papers?”
His face changed.
Not guilt.
Not shame.
Confusion.
“What divorce papers?”
“The ones you sent ten years ago.”
“I never sent you divorce papers.”
I stared at him.
“Stop.”
“Elena, I swear to you.”
“Stop.”
“I never filed for divorce.”
My knees suddenly felt weak.
Before I could answer, my boss, Claire Hart, rushed from behind the reception desk.
She looked terrified.
“Mr. Vale.”
Daniel turned.
Claire swallowed.
“Your mother just arrived.”
The front doors opened.
Vivian Vale walked inside.
Silver hair.
Cream coat.
Pearls at her throat.
She looked almost exactly the way I remembered her.
Cold.
Elegant.
Completely sure the world would move when she told it to.
Then she saw me.
She stopped.
Daniel looked between us.
“Mom?”
Vivian closed her eyes.
Only for a second.
When she opened them, she looked straight at me.
“I told them,” she said quietly, “to make sure you two never found each other.”
Daniel went white.
I felt the room tilt beneath my feet.
May you like
And for the first time in ten years, I realized something far worse than my husband leaving me.
Maybe he never had.
