The woman in the mirror was wrecked. Ugly. Unrecognizable. Tears blurred my vision as I dialed my father's number. "Dad, I'm leaving him. For good."
With his support behind me, I set out to find a divorce lawyer.
The elevator doors opened onto the underground parking garage, and my feet froze to the concrete.
Dustin's silver Maybach sat right ahead.
The window was half-down. Alice's slender arms were looped around Dustin's neck. She tilted her face up and pressed her lips to his.
Dustin paused for a fraction of a second. Then his hand found the back of her head, and he deepened the kiss.
Something collapsed inside my chest. The wall I'd built from self-deception—the lie I'd told myself for nearly a year, that he was only pretending to be Alice's husband because he had no choice.
Now I knew. There had never been any reluctance. He had wanted her all along.
Nausea surged without warning. I doubled over, gripping a concrete pillar, dry-heaving so violently I thought my insides would come up.
I staggered into my car and dialed the hospital.
"I'd like to schedule a termination."
"How far along are you?"
"Three months."
I lowered my head, pressing my hand against my belly.