The Scapegoat Wife's Ultimate Comeback

timated the depth of my resolve. My outburst seemed to short-circuit his carefully constructed calm. His gaze fel

of the stack, his phone buzzed, vibrating insistently. He snatched it up, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He

He looked at me, a brief, apologetic glance, then back at his phone. "Hillery? What's

-and-run? Hillery, are you hurt? Where are you?" He was already halfway out the door, his concern for her overridin

another dramatic outburst from his "emotional" wife, something that would blow over with time. He still hadn't processed the signed document

d in his name months ago at my lawyer's insistence, were now legally binding. I had just completed the last

from the floor. They were no longer a threat, but a shie

sworth had arranged to publicly legitimize her and, more importantly, distance h

constructed walls. He'd been spending all his time with Hillery, securing her alibi, pulling strings to get her out

the mansion, his face a thundercloud, his eyes blazing with an unfamiliar fury. He looked dishe

. He strode towards me, his hand reaching out, not gently, but roughl

. "Done? What are you

run! She says you framed her! That you planted evidence! That you drove her car into that... that

y shocked by the absurdity of his claim.

ly speaking, in full, furious sentences. His words flowed, uninhibited, fueled by his desperate need to protect her. The irony was a bitter ta

voice shaking. "I was at the galler

scene of an accident!" His voice was frantic, desperate. "You ne

s crime, to sacrifice myself for her freedom. For her, he would sacrifi