Tears burned down my cheeks.
He was right.
Eight years ago, I foolishly believed that if I just had enough time, I could warm Christopher’s heart.
But today, I understood how naïve I had been.
For eight years, he had taken countless women to bed.
And now, he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore.
I knew what would happen if I didn’t go. The video wouldn’t just stay on my phone. By tomorrow morning, every major media outlet in Boston would have it.
The Anderson Family had been a pillar of this city for over a century.
I couldn’t drag my father through another scandal—couldn’t let my mistakes taint his legacy.
Christopher had spent years making sure my life was miserable, doing everything in his power to break me.
I didn’t know when his love had twisted into such cruel, unforgiving hatred.
How had we ended up here?
A sharp pain suddenly tore through my lower abdomen.
I gasped, pressing my hand against the wall as a fresh wave of blood gushed from my body.
I had no time to deal with it.
Biting down on the pain, I forced myself to stand, grabbed my things and walked out of the ward.
Ten minutes later, I sent Christopher the hotel room number.