The moment she learned he had forgiven his sworn enemy, she laughed in disbelief. Then she swore she’d handle the divorce papers for me.
It was supposed to be Thanksgiving, but as I walked away from the noisy gathering and came home alone, the silence felt crushing.
At four in the morning, Gideon finally stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. The moment he got into bed, he pulled me close, pressing his warm lips against mine, insistent and probing.
After three years of marriage, I knew exactly what he wanted.
His body pressed down on me as one hand fumbled toward the nightstand. His kisses left me weak until I heard the sound of a pill packet being snapped open.
In that instant, desire turned to ice in my veins.
“Be good,” he whispered. “Take the pill, and we’ll keep going.”
But I clenched my jaw and refused. I wouldn’t take another birth control pill.
Out of nowhere, Arabella’s words from earlier replayed in my head. “We even made a pact that until the scar on my collarbone healed, he couldn’t have kids with you.
My stomach turned. I shoved his drunken body off me and spat the pill he’d tried to force between my lips back out. The bitterness burned so much that it brought tears to my eyes.