"Tessa, the suburban villa is quiet. Nobody around. Go stay there for a while."
My mind went blank.
Before the anger could even arrive, a dull, physical ache seized my heart.
Three years ago, when we'd moved into this house, Blake had held me in his arms with red-rimmed eyes.
"Tessa, this is our home now. You, me, and our children."
But now, the man who'd promised me a home—
Three years later, on this day, he was throwing me out of it.
"Tessa, my wife isn't happy. I don't want to say it twice."
There was a smile on his face, but the low edge of his voice carried an unmistakable warning.
My throat felt stuffed with something sodden and bitter, like waterlogged cotton.
Through the haze, it hit me: he wasn't joking.
After a long silence, under the weight of his smug certainty that he'd already won, I nodded. My voice was barely there.
"Got it."
Blake watched me rise from my seat, something shifting behind his eyes. Then he stepped forward and caught my arm, his voice dropping a few degrees softer. "There's a gala this afternoon. Come with me."
I was about to refuse, but he cut me off.
"It's Fiona's first time at one of these events. You can carry her train and help her look the part."