Too Late, Husband: Watch Me Shine
ise
my abdomen and the crushing weight of betrayal. I didn't look back. I couldn't. The hospital exit loomed, a beacon
ber for Marcus Thorne, a sharp divorce attorney recommended by a former colleague. "Marcus
at you've told me, Eloise, you have a very strong case. Embezzlement of marital assets, emotional
ust want him out of my life. I want peace." The words felt hollow, even to me. I was exhaus
eady settling in. Our home. The house we had built our dr
s the car pulled up our driveway, a sound pierced the twilight quiet: C
He had brought her here. To our home. The audacity, the
pping tea from my delicate porcelain cup. Her blonde hair was splayed across my embroidered pillow, and her bare feet rested on my coffee table. Dawson was in the kitchen, humming
re home. I didn't expect you back tonight." His voice was casual, as i
, but the sound was jarring. "Oh, Eloise! I'm so sorry! I didn't me
olve. I looked at Dawson, my eyes like chips of ice. "What is she doing here, Dawson?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it carri
ecovering. She had a traumatic experience at the hospital, you saw how you treated her." He gestured vaguely
's the same story you've been telling me for months, the one that
his is the last time, I swear. Just let her recuperate here for tonight, and tomorrow, I'll make sure she finds another place. I'll cut off all contact. I promise. We can fix this.
eard "last time" too many times to count, and
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