My Husband’s Mistress Wore My Missing Versace Dress To My Father’s Funeral. Sat In The Family Row. Held My Husband’s Hand. “I’m Practically Family Now,” She Announced. The Lawyer Began Reading The Will: “To My Daughter Diane, Who Called Me Yesterday About Her Husband’s Affair…” My Husband Went Pale. The Mistress Rained.

I heard the words, but they didn’t register, because I was too busy staring at the crystals on Audrey’s neck. My father would have been absolutely livid if he could see this circus unfolding in the front row of his final farewell.

Harrison Parker had valued loyalty above all else, and he had always been a man who could spot a fraud from a mile away. When Miles asked for my hand in marriage, my father took him out on the bay in a storm just to see if he would panic when things got rough.

Miles had laughed about it for years, but my father later told me he just wanted to see if the boy knew how to hold a steady course. The eulogies started, and I watched my father’s old law partner take the stage to tell stories of their early days in court.

Then the Bishop looked down the row, called my name, and gestured for me to come forward to the podium. I stood up on trembling legs, feeling Bridget squeeze my hand one last time before I stepped out into the aisle.

As I walked past Miles, he finally looked at me, and I saw a flash of genuine panic on his face for the first time. Good, I thought to myself.