I wasn’t sure what I expected, but the look in Alfred’s eyes wasn’t it. His eyes were bloodshot and red, edged with puffy bags, as if he’d been crying for months. The sight forced me to remember the pain and loss I suffered on his behalf—the loss of my child because of his infidelity—yet the softening of his gaze toward me was inexplicable. Why did he look at me with such tenderness now? Memories of our past rushed through me like a storm, but his broken appearance contradicted the ruthless image I’d held onto. My thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the chaos inside me. Did he know what he had done to me? Did he feel regret? And yet, a darker voice whispered that this might be some sick game, another layer of betrayal that I hadn’t yet uncovered. But there he stood, an ex-mate, a poten
