It had gone off many times in the middle of the night. Blake always said it was a client.
I'd trusted him so completely that I never once questioned it.
Now I knew exactly how foolish I'd been.
He didn't answer right away. His voice was calm, the kind of calm you'd use to soothe a child throwing a tantrum.
"Why make such a fuss over a plaything? We've been together ten years. You really want to throw all of that away over a piece of paper?"
"You're not young anymore, Tessa. No parents, no job, nothing. I'm the only one willing to take care of you. Keep pushing, and even that won't last."
He pulled the car to the curb. "Take a cab home. I need to go pick up my girl. Think about what I said."
The door slammed shut like a slap across the face.
I watched the car disappear down the road, then collapsed against the curb and retched until tears streaked my entire face.
Blake was wrong about one thing. Nobody gets a marriage certificate with a plaything.
That certificate—the one I'd waited ten years for and never received.
True love doesn't change. It just finds someone else.
I stared up at the overcast sky, a hollow wind blowing straight through my chest.