My Husband’s Regret After I Cheated

"Ivy. What happened."

He'd gritted the question out. His expression was terrifying.

"What happened? Why don't you ask the woman in your arms?"

Seraphina trembled obligingly, playing the shaken victim. "Lucas, it's not Ivy's fault. I lost my balance. Don't blame her."

Catherine, of course, was incandescent. "Seraphina, you're too kind. Even now you're defending this animal! Ivy, if you know what's good for you, you'll agree to the donation. Otherwise you can count on never being recognized by this family!"

"Suit yourself," I said.

Lucas looked up then. "What donation?"

"A liver transplant for Seraphina, of course. Ivy's a match…"

Catherine didn't get to finish. Seraphina cut her off with a beautifully timed groan of pain. "Lucas. I don't feel well."

Lucas lifted her and headed for the door. Before he walked out, he threw a last line at me.

"I want an explanation for today. From you."

Then he was gone. Richard and Catherine ran after them, too rattled to remember they'd been cornering me a minute ago.

The room emptied. I picked up what was left of the shattered figurine and carried it out of the Ashford house.

I walked with it cradled in my hands, each step heavier than the last. Even after all these years, thinking about what Seraphina had done to Happy still left a sharp, hot ache in my chest.

I don't know how long I'd been walking when a car pulled up beside me. Ethan's tall frame stepped out.

I finally thought to check the time. I was an hour late.

"I'm sorry. I…"

Before I could finish he'd already folded me into a warm hug. He peeled off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

"What happened? You don't look okay."

His voice had gone soft. And I started crying before I could stop myself.

"I was just thinking about the dog I used to have."

"I couldn't protect her. Someone killed her. And I couldn't even make her pay for it. I wasn't the kind of owner Happy deserved."

The more I said, the harder the tears came, blurring everything.

Ethan was quiet. He held me. "I'm sorry," he said, low, "for not finding you sooner. For making you go through all of this alone."

"You did everything you could. I know that."

He tipped my face up and kissed the tears from the corners of my eyes, and then he just held me for a long time.

There was something about that pocket of warmth. The exhaustion and the pain that had been rising up in me all night bled out of me in his arms.

Until a pair of headlights cut across us.

Through the windshield I could see Lucas, watching, his face storm-dark.