23
ANNA
“Dammit,” I hissed as I wiped a tear from the cover of a book I was supposed to be shelving. The stupid hero had the same crooked grin as Hudson. I stared at him a little too long and a tear leaked free.
I shoved the book onto the shelf and grabbed another one. I didn’t let myself look at the covers, just the spine, so I knew where it needed to go. I couldn’t get distracted. Not again.
I thought my husband leaving me with two young kids and getting divorced while saddled with thousands of debt I didn’t spend was bad. Nope. Not even close to being betrayed by a man I could have, maybe, possibly, started to see a future with.
It was my fault, though. I thought he saw me as capable. Instead, he showed me that he saw me as a charity case. Not good enough. A failure of a parent sin
