CHAPTER 65
RUTH
I walked out of the church with a smile I couldn't wipe off my face.
The evening air was cool against my flushed skin, the last rays of sunlight painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The streets were quiet, most of the parishioners already gone, their cars pulling out of the lot one by one.
I was still floating. Still feeling the phantom touch of his hands on my body, the echo of his voice in my ears. My thighs pressed together as I walked, the memory of him still warm between my legs.
"Ruth?"
I froze.
The voice was familiar. Too familiar. The kind of familiar that made my stomach twist with old anger and older hurt.
I turned.
Mark stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his face half-shadowed by the fading light. He looked the same as he had when
