Part 2: The Trust I Never HadNo More Scars

I stood there in a daze, feeling as though the man I'd spent ten tangled years with had become frighteningly unfamiliar.

Ever since I'd caught him cheating, he'd gone along with everything I asked—unless I hurt Celeste or tried to kill myself. He never fought back.

Even when I'd left him covered in wounds, he'd still quietly prepare breakfast for me the next morning and come whenever I called.

He'd played the part of a devoted husband to perfection.

I thought he was trying to change. Trying to make amends.

Only now did I understand.

He'd long since convinced himself that he had nothing to do with that betrayal all those years ago. His kindness toward me was nothing more than pity.

Perhaps realizing he'd spoken too harshly, Leander sighed helplessly and gently caressed my cheek.

"Seraphina, after all these years, other than the situation with Celeste, haven't I treated you well enough? I've done everything I can to consider your feelings. I've kept my distance from Celeste. Why can't you trust me a little more?

"That bedroom photo you have is nothing but circumstantial evidence. Celeste had a stomachache, so I went to take care of her. I got tired and slept on the hotel bed. That's all.

"If you're determined to make a scene over nothing and let your imagination run wild, then there's nothing I can say."

The disappointment in his eyes was absolute, as though I were the unreasonable one.

What he didn't know was how obvious the kiss marks she had deliberately left on him were. So obvious that they exposed his lie at the slightest touch.

My stomach churned. I fought down the nausea and pulled away from his hand mockingly.

"What if I told you Celeste was the one who sent me this photo?"

The moment the words left my mouth, a tremendous force slammed me against the wall, sending pain shooting through my back.

Leander's hand, the veins standing out across it, remained suspended in the air as his chest heaved violently.

"Seraphina, Celeste isn't like you. She doesn't have a malicious bone in her body. Don't let me hear you badmouthing Celeste again."

I swallowed the metallic taste rising in my throat, the bitterness in my chest threatening to drown me.

See? Was I the one who didn't trust him? No. He'd never trusted me.

Leander was right. I was pathetic.

Pathetic enough that whether it was the first time I'd caught him cheating ten years ago or these six bedroom photos that had surfaced since then, I had needed his mistress to be the one to send me the evidence.

And all that time, I'd never even noticed it myself.

The tears finally spilled over. I reached into my bag for a tissue, trying to hide how miserable I looked.

The instant my hand moved toward my bag, Leander reacted faster than I could and yanked my arm hard enough to dislocate it.

"I've already carved your name into my skin like you wanted. What else are you planning to do to Celeste?"

He warily made sure there was nothing unusual in the room behind him before cautiously kicking my bag aside.

A corner of the tissue pack peeked out.

He paused for two seconds, then seemed to understand.

"Are you planning to set the place on fire? Seraphina, I'll admit I can't live without you. But if you dare hurt Celeste or cause her to lose the baby, I won't let you off either!"

His eyes were bloodshot, filled with boundless hatred and helpless frustration.

He looked like a lion driven into a corner.

How afraid must he have been that I'd hurt Celeste to imagine even a tissue pack as a weapon? I didn't know.

I let him have security drag me out of the hotel, then immediately called my divorce attorney.

All I knew was that I was done with this twisted three-way mess of love and hatred. I wanted out.