He Chose Her Over Us
I thought would complete our perfect life. Then his ex-girlf
kidnapping, he
born child to the kidnap
ining the concrete, and walked away t
e was leavin
g I told my rescuer was, "I'm thin
pte
Port
of changing my b
tween me and Camden Montoya. They sounded insane. Delusional, even. But the hol
side of the wrought-iron patio table. Years of friendship had taught me to read every nu
baritone that had always been my
amden. He didn't ask "why"
read it. I knew what it would say. The headline was probably already splashed across ever
ragile-looking woman. Her tear-streaked face was buried in his chest, his bespoke suit jacket draped
he loved w
from Camden, even though he wa
ve to look at
like cracking glass. "It'
ermanent scar on top of the wound that
ach, a symbol of our perfect life. He was the self-made tech billionaire, the man who had clawed his way up from nothing. I was Belen Porter
, the auctioneer announced a special, final item. Not an object, but a cause. A "humanitarian bi
pale, her eyes wide with a terror that seemed almost theatrical. She was a ghost from a
riend from before the money
d times, a woman who had lost everything and needed a second cha
aped his throat. His knuckles were white where he gripped h
ent that put Gregory in a coma. She' d vanished afterward, consumed by guil
his eyes pleading
whispered, m
y step echoing in the suddenly silent ballroom. He didn' t rais
ounced, his voice ringing with an authority no one dared to question. "I will take
ousand-dollar jacket, and wrapped it around Adrianna' s trembling shoulders. The ca
, whispering words I couldn' t hear but could feel like a physical blow.
slightly into the plush carpet. "Gregory," I sai
an I married. A flicker of guilt. "Belen, it' s not what i
f the stage, shielding her from the prying eyes
didn' t scream.
. The door was slightly ajar. I stood in the shadows, my
to me. "Are you okay, Adrianna? I was s
hispered, her voice thick wit
my gut. "I have a penthouse downtown. You can stay there. I'
giving her money. He was giving h
eaned in an
of a shared history that I could never penetrate. And he didn't pull away. For
ther of my child, was gone. In his place was a strang
robotic. I walked out of the gala, past the curious
oo cheerful for the wreckage of my life. I looked down at the news
sion wa
again. Another t
dy. Has been for year
typed my reply, a single word that held the weig
Ok