Chapter 1
Everyone knew Weston Cole was head over heels for me. He would have literally laid down his life in a heartbeat.
When I was pregnant, he was paranoid about my rare blood type, and he even arranged for a live donor on standby just for me.
After our baby arrived, he gave society the middle finger by letting our child take my last name.
He did not want me to suffer through another pregnancy, so he got a vasectomy without any hesitation.
Every socialite in our circle was green with envy.
I bought into it too.
I impulsively returned to our marital home one fateful day, only to have a security guard block my path.
"This is private property," he barked.
"I am his wife," I explained with a polite smile.
The guard looked me up and down like I was trash. "Mr. Cole's wife is Ms. Blake," he said. "Who do you think you are? Try scamming someone who does not know better."
My body went rigid. Hadley Blake was the walking blood bag Weston had procured for me.
With trembling hands, I produced our marriage certificate. "I am his wife," I said. "See? Official documents."
The guard snatched it with a swift motion and let it flutter to the pavement without a glance. "Nice try with the fake," he said. "Mr. Cole and his lady live here. Do you think I am stupid?"
"Beat it," he added. "This is your last warning before I call security."
They lived here.
My veins turned to ice as I gaped at the house I had once called home.
This place had been Weston's labor of love. For two years, he had obsessed over every detail to match my tastes.
Then my mother visited after the wedding, and everything went wrong.
Claiming that he wanted to spare me painful memories, Weston moved us to a new place.
Now it was his hideaway with her.
But what the actual hell?
His love for me had been more certain than the sunrise.
The sheer ridiculousness of it all hit me like a truck.
I picked up the marriage certificate from the ground and staggered away, numb with shock.
As I collapsed into the car, my phone buzzed twice, and messages from Weston appeared.
"Babe, I miss you like crazy. How is our little troublemaker behaving today?"
"I am going to finish work early and rush home to you both. Should I grab your favorite red velvet cake on my way?"
"Love, just thinking about you two makes my heart full. Thank you for everything."
Reading his words, a giant fist seemed to squeeze the air from my lungs. Hot tears streamed down my face, unstoppable as a broken dam.
For three years of marriage, day after day, this had been Weston's routine.
He had every detail about me memorized: my favorite foods, my signature scents, and even my food allergies and aversions.
Worried that I would feel lonely, he raced home by seven sharp every evening for dinner.
Knowing about my sensitive stomach, he personally whipped up my favorite comfort foods.
He had left no stone unturned across the country to secure a live blood donor during my pregnancy, paranoid that something might happen to me.
The donor was none other than Hadley, who had been a college student at the time.
After our child was born, he had sworn that she had been sent away.
Then how the hell was she living in the love nest we had built together?
