Olivia Westview
I had slapped him.
God, what have I done?
My palm was still tingling from the impact, the skin burning from the force of my own fury. My breath came in ragged, uneven gasps as the reality of what had just happened settled over me like a suffocating fog. I had struck James. James, whose touch had once sent shivers down my spine. James, whose voice had once been the only thing that could soothe me in the darkest of nights.
James, who had lied to me, used me, and shattered everything we had.
No. Not everything we had. Everything I thought we had.
Because none of it had been real. It had been a carefully crafted illusion, spun together with stolen moments and whispered promises that meant nothing. He had a wife. A life I knew nothing about. A commitment he had already ma
