At my lowest, I tried to end my life right there at his grave. A groundskeeper found me in time. That was the only reason I survived.
Never, not once, did I imagine that all of it had been a scheme. That he'd shed his old life like a snake sheds its skin and walked away clean.
I picked up a framed photo from the table. Two people standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the northern lights. My eyes burned so fiercely the pain lanced straight through my chest.
"Nice wedding photos. Iceland?"
Back when Anthony and I were engaged, Victoria had been his secretary, involved in every detail of the planning.
Once, while I was agonizing over where to shoot our wedding photos, she had offered a careful suggestion.
"I think Iceland would be perfect. Every aurora only appears once and never again. It symbolizes something truly one of a kind."
Anthony had smiled at that and said it was a wonderful idea.
But not long after, I found a lipstick in his car that didn't belong to me.
I followed the trail of clues until I uncovered its owner: Victoria Mason.
I insisted on calling off the engagement. He responded by standing on the ledge of an eighteen-story building.