From Prison to His Perfect Regret

my freedom to save my husba

tude, but instead, I found his assista

is, he didn't look to me for support-

uite at The Plaza could e

andice, the woman who orchestrated my fall

top was wiped, his mas

tantly, blind to the real ene

gue. I just

te without him, that I was throw

nmate who had protected me in

ng. He' d finally found the securi

gged, his voice breaking. "I'll even give

ly painting a crib for our unbo

money, Jasp

eady taken

pte

lie

and had let me rot. Now, the bitter wind of upstate New York tore at my thin clothes, whipping snow into my face. It felt like the world was actively trying to freeze me. I

s forgotten stretch of road, pulled up b

ct suit, that same charming smile that used to

ice a low, practiced rumb

, my voice raspy from disuse, from years of holding it back. "Bec

nched.

his eyes, searching for a flicker of genuine remorse. T

ting you from the media. It was for your own good." His excus

erity. "Five years of silence. Tell me, was it hard for you to orchestrate that? To make

wasn't like that. I had Candice manage

Oh, Candice. Of course. The gatekeeper." The cold wind bit hard

t accidentally blocked every single one of my desperate attempts to reach out?" I asked, the sarc

I' m not the naive girl who loved you blindly anymore. The woman who wal

ceptive blanket of white. It was cold. So cold. And for the first time in a long time, I felt a kind of clarity that was as sharp as

s voice surprisingly firm. "L

car, but not yet inside. "You think a heat

d to go with him, for now. There was nowhere else. But I would mak