Weston squeezed his eyes shut, and his voice cracked under the weight of unbearable pain. "I am sorry, Maeve," he said. "I love you, God help me, I do. I messed up. So damn badly."
"There has never been anyone else," he continued. "Just you. Only ever you. I made arrangements to terminate the pregnancy. I sent her overseas. You will never have to see her again. Can we not just wipe the slate clean?"
His words shattered my fragile calm, and they sparked a white-hot fury in my chest. "This is your love?" I asked. "Screwing another woman? You could not stand watching me go through childbirth, so you got some other girl pregnant instead?"
I had thought my heart was beyond hurting, yet the words left my eyes stinging with bitter tears. How dare he cloak his betrayals in pretty words of love.
