“Era.”
“I need to know who the woman is first.”
Clara sighs softly.
“I want to see her,” I continue. “I want to look at her face and ask why.”
Another pause.
“Honestly?” Clara says finally. “Dominic is the one you should be blaming.”
“I know.”
“Yes, the mistress is going to hell,” she continues. “We’ve already established that but Dominic is your husband. He’s supposed to be your protector… your other half.”
She pauses.
“Not the man who makes you question your own reality.”
Her words land heavier than I expect and for a moment neither of us speaks.
Then Clara suddenly clears her throat.
“Anyway,” she says. “On a much more important note.”
I almost laugh.
“When are we getting mimosas? It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other.”
“Soon,” I say with a small smile.
“You’ve been saying that forever.”
“Fine,” she sighs dramatically. “But I’m holding you to it.”
I glance toward the front door where Dominic left just minutes ago.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Soon.”
CHAPTER 13
Other Woman
The day disappears faster than I expect. What starts as a simple attempt to keep busy turns into hours of small chores, dishes, wiping counters, folding laundry. Anything to keep my mind from wandering back to the same questions. The washing machine hums softly as I sort through the clothes. When I pull out a pair of jeans, something small slips from the back pocket and hits the floor with a soft metallic sound.
My ring.
I stare at it for a moment. I remember putting it there but what I forgot… was that it was still there. Dominic didn’t notice either. Or maybe he did. For a second I just stand there, the ring resting in the palm of my hand. All day I’ve been walking around without it. Strangely… it felt normal.
My mind drifts back to the river before I can stop it. Lucien standing so close to me the lantern light flickered across his face. The warmth of his hands when he cupped my cheeks, the way his thumbs brushed softly along my skin.
Then his hands on my waist.
Pulling me closer.
And his—
I stop the thought before it can finish. I shake my head sharply, like I can physically push the memory away.
