I was nine months pregnant with twins, and my doctor gravely told me I needed an emergency C-section due to a life-threatening complication.
My Hamptons mansion, built on the legacy of my husband Ethan' s old-money family, felt like a safe haven, especially after I saved his life from an F4 tornado.
But as I drove home to tell him, I saw her car, Chloe' s sleek black Mercedes, parked outside.
Chloe, his high school sweetheart, the "one that got away," had returned, claiming a fragile heart condition, and within moments, my urgent medical need was dismissed as "drama."