ADVERTISEMENT
They expected me to walk in shattered.
That was the real reason the Montgomery family invited me to my ex-husband’s wedding.
That invitation was not kindness.
It was bait.
And Eleanor Montgomery — Ethan’s icy, calculating mother — made sure every detail of my humiliation was planned.
Including my seat.
Beside the kitchen doors inside their enormous lakefront estate in Lake Geneva.
Far enough to remind me I was no longer welcome.
She had no idea I was not coming alone.
The invitation smelled like expensive perfume and imported paper. I stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse overlooking downtown Chicago, turning the envelope between my fingers.
I gave a quiet, bitter laugh.
Ethan.
“Mama, who’s getting married?”
Liam was tugging gently on my sweater.
Behind him, Noah and Caleb were building a pillow fortress in the living room while arguing about dinosaurs.
My triplets.
Five years old.
ADVERTISEMENT