Hailey's POV
“I love Cole.”
I whisper it to my reflection in the restaurant restroom mirror, over and over, like a confession I’m trying to convince myself of. Like saying it enough times might make it stronger. Truer. If I love Cole, then this shouldn’t feel like betrayal burning under my skin. I shouldn’t feel hollow and restless, I shouldn't imagine a life without him so easily. I shouldn’t feel that sharp, possessive twist in my chest when I think of the way Julian looked at him—how a dark, ugly part of me wants to pull her by the hair immediately I get back out there.
I lower my head, pressing my palms against the sink, my ring cold against the porcelain.
If I love my husband, why does my heart race at the constant thought of his brother?
Why does my body respond to him as if it
