The sunlight from the bay window flashed across the room like a challenge.
“And now,” she added, leaning into the man beside her,
“I’m Mrs. Callahan.”
My mother flinched when she saw my face—but not from guilt.
From fear.
They had known exactly how this would look when I came home.
The Man Beside Her
I turned toward the man Chloe was clinging to.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Expensive navy suit. Familiar cologne.
From behind—or in dim lighting—he could easily pass for my fiancé, Ethan Callahan.
The resemblance was close enough to fool distant relatives who had only seen engagement photos.
Close enough to fool my parents, who cared more about last names and bank accounts than details.
Continue on the next page:
