Fifty-fourHow did I know Cyrus was the one?
It seemed a lifetime since Leilani had asked her that question, although it was only a few days ago. Misty turned it over in her mind as she lay in her hospital bed. She searched for the man she’d married in the Cyrus who came to take her home.
Her Cyrus was easygoing, straightforward, kind, so different from her own languid sensuality. He never got riled by the male attention she attracted, nor did he object if she wanted a quiet evening at home in her own company. He had crinkle lines at the corners of his eyes from his affable exchanges with old women and young children.
The Cyrus who arrived at the hospital to bring her home was nothing like that man. Her stomach flipped with a hollow thud as she studied him covertly in the hansom ride on
