His Perfect Lie, Her Vicious Truth

son

a cold knot tightening around my heart. I looked

sliced across the impossibly blue

er hospital bed. My promise. My responsibility. The t

, curled up in my arms last night, silent, unmoving.

a frantic flutter in my stomach. I

ett' s room, then drove to the ci

cate silk scarf. "It's beautiful," she'd murmured, "but too expensive." I ha

o picked out a luxurious coat, a classic piece from her fa

rm. "To the Maldives. For Elodie and me. Make it the most exclusive resort, no

n," his efficien

assenger seat. A fragile hope began to bl

to please, so forgiving, so utterly devoted. Just a little pampering,

e' s hospital room, a soft, ind

y breath hitched.

om was

d without a single wrinkle. Even the half-empty g

stunned, root

e nurse at the station asked,

tight. "Yes.

, a slight frown touching her brow. "Checked h

was a raw croak.

didn't say. Just packed

d expensive coat spilling onto the floor. My f

tor echoed in my ear. "The number you

econds. My world, once so meticulously ord

violently in my hand. Bridgett.

in! My head... it feels like it's splittin

y, raspy. "Elodi

ce. "She's just angry, Bronson. She'll come back. She j

," I managed to rasp, my voice thick with a sudden, desperate

"Now, come back to me. I n

room. My mind, desperate for ord

me to chase her. She loves

up the fallen flowers

a bewildered expression on his face. "Why are you still here? Didn't you alre

tal floor once more. My world tilted, spinning violently into ch