Elysia glanced over her shoulder as she stepped into the hotel lobby.
"I have a reservation under Windsor," she said.
The front desk receptionist looked up at her with a bright, professional smile.
"Oh yes, of course. Your husband is already waiting for you inside," the young woman replied. "Second table on your left."
Elysia nodded politely.
"Thank you." She muttered and turned to leave.
"Enjoy your evening at Heaven's Heather," the receptionist called after her.
Husband...
That would all be over soon.
Her fingers tightened around the copy of the divorce papers Mr. Ansley had delivered to her that morning.
She walked into the restaurant, the soft fabric of her wine-coloured satin dress swaying gently around her legs.
The slight curve of her stomach showed beneath the dress.
I
