His Secret Wife, My Broken Heart

ng. The city lights blurred into streaks of color through my tea

lf in a trendy part of town filled with art galleries. A sign

by an invisible string. A

so talented. Especially her portraits. She says her muse is th

a sofa, a lazy smile on his face. I knew that smile. He' d give

, a detail only someone who had spent

a balcony overlooking the city. Carter lau

ue next to each paint

. The same two months since Erlene had returned. The same two months I had been a prisoner of my

come, playing the part of the rescuer. He' d told me h

t you, Darline. Let things

ith her. Posing for these intimate portraits. His supposed protection w

so all-encompassing, it s

clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug in

out of the gallery

ment. I couldn't bring a child into this world of deceit, t

thing I needed to retrieve before I disappeared forever: m

had been my prison for four years, Cl

hat are you

t something f

pathy. "Erlene is resting. The doctor said she needs absolut

so Erlene could move in, could erase every tr

voice eerily calm. "What

s so out of character for the girl

on't you come to her farewell party tomorrow night? We

ife. The irony

packing a small bag, putting everything he had ever given me into a lar

r me at a carnival two years ago. It was the first time I' d seen him truly

put the bear in the tra

as C

d the bags of discarded gifts. A lo

? What i