The Price of His Betrayal

a slow erosion. It was a v

an had insisted I wear a specific designer gown. He wanted me to look the part of his perfect, pious girlfriend. I was i

ul, planning to tell Julian after the gala. I thought a baby, his baby,

ed in. She was holding a flute of c

"You can put a designer dress on a farm

k to the mirror. "Please l

er reflection appeared behind mine in the mirrored wall. "You're jus

what you're

was sharp.

of pure rage. She lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair. Bef

tars burst in my vision. I crum

erical. She drew back her foot and kicked me, a

e, a cramp so intense it stole my b

ushing into the room. He didn't look at me on the floo

d, his voice frantic with con