I saw him through the ballroom entrance.

Navy tuxedo.

Silver cuff links.

Perfect hair.

The man looked as though he’d spent the previous night sleeping peacefully instead of drinking champagne with another woman while his infant son was admitted to the hospital.

His eyes found me immediately.

Relief moved across his face.

“Clara.”

I turned away.

He caught up beside the orchid-covered seating display.

“I’ve been calling.”

“So was I.”

His expression tightened.

“Can we not do this here?”

That nearly made me laugh.

Of course.

Not here.

Not while people were watching.

Not while there could be consequences.

“Ethan, you had plenty of privacy last night.”

His face changed.

Only slightly.

But I saw it.

“You don’t know what you think you know.”

“I know exactly enough.”

“Clara—”

The elevator chimed behind him.

The doors opened.

And Sabrina Voss stepped out.

Silver gown.

Platinum-blonde hair falling in perfect waves.

A diamond necklace wrapped around her throat.

She looked like a woman arriving somewhere she expected to be admired.

Then she saw Ethan.

Her smile warmed.

Then she saw me.

And for approximately three seconds, Sabrina forgot how to breathe.

It was the first satisfying moment I’d had in twenty-four hours.

“Clara,” Ethan whispered.

Sabrina recovered first.

“I’m here with friends.”

“Of course you are.”

Her eyes flicked toward Ethan.

He looked furious.

Not with her.

Not with himself.

With the situation.

Because suddenly the two women he had been carefully separating were standing ten feet apart.

Ethan reached for my wrist.

“Please.”

I pulled my arm away.

“You didn’t come home.”

His jaw tightened.

“I made a mistake.”

“No.”

I looked directly into his eyes.

“You made a decision.”

Guests moved around us toward the ballroom.

Ethan lowered his voice.

“How’s Noah?”

I stared at him.

There were questions capable of revealing an entire human being.

That was one of them.

“You don’t get to ask me that twenty-four hours later.”

His expression faltered.

For once, Ethan Cole had no immediate answer.

So I left him standing there.

The ceremony began ten minutes later.

I sat in the front row and watched Grace walk toward the man she loved.

She looked breathtaking.

But that wasn’t what made my chest ache.

It was the way Lucas looked at her.

Like the music had disappeared.

Like the guests had vanished.

Like every beautiful thing surrounding them was irrelevant because she had entered the room.

I glanced at Ethan beside me.

He was staring straight ahead.

For several minutes, I allowed myself to remember our wedding.

He had once looked at me that way.

Or perhaps I had only convinced myself he had.

Marriage made historians of us all.

We rewrote old moments according to new evidence.

Had Ethan loved me?

I believed he had.

At least once.

That somehow made everything worse.

During Grace’s vows, my phone vibrated.

A single message.

Ben Mercer.

Everything is ready.

I lifted my eyes.

Ben stood near the audiovisual booth in a dark suit.

Ethan’s longtime executive assistant.

Thirty-six years old.

Quiet.

Precise.

Almost invisible when Ethan wanted him invisible.

Ben had contacted me at 5:12 that morning.

I had still been sitting beside Noah’s hospital crib.

His first message contained no greeting.

Mrs.

Cole, I believe you need to see something.

Then came twelve photographs.