Chapter 2

I carried my daughter home and called a private investigator.

【Look into Edwin Weiss and Matilda Henson. I want to know when it started.】

By that afternoon the report was in my hands.

Photos, hotel records, credit card statements. I turned the pages one by one, my breath coming faster and faster.

The third year of our marriage, I was working the dinner circuit, entertaining his business partners, drinking until my stomach bled and I ended up in the hospital.

And he, at a ceremony to donate a school building, met Matilda Henson, still a student who hadn't graduated yet.

Not long after my first miscarriage, Edwin took her along on a business trip to the Bahamas.

The two of them shared one suite for a full week.

On our wedding anniversary he said he was busy meeting a client. He was really at a yacht dinner with Matilda.

When Matilda gave birth, he was there for every minute of the delivery, and he saw to every last detail of her recovery himself.

But when I had our daughter, he said he had an urgent international meeting.

I suddenly remembered a night early in our relationship, curled up against him watching TV.

The news on the screen was about a man exposed for cheating while his wife was pregnant.

I said, offhand, "People online say a man usually only keeps up the act until the woman gets pregnant. You wouldn't do that, would you?"

He lowered his head, kissed the top of my hair, and pulled me in tighter.

"I'll never let you suffer the smallest bit in this life."

But he broke that promise. He only kept up the act until I'd given birth.

That night, Edwin came home with Matilda and the boy.

"Matilda's neighborhood lost power tonight. I couldn't leave them in a hotel."

"Go tidy up the guest room and run a bath. The boy needs a warm soak before bed."

I stood in the entryway and didn't move. The boy kicked off his shoes and clambered onto the sofa.

Peeling off her coat, Matilda laughed. "Careful, sweetie, don't hurt yourself."

My daughter woke crying in her crib and I hurried over to soothe her.

The boy came and hung off the crib railing, peering in. "So this is that little bastard? She's so ugly."

He suddenly reached in and grabbed at my daughter's face, and his sharp nails left a streak of blood.

I couldn't hold the anger back any longer. "Get away from her! Where are your manners?"

Matilda crouched and gathered the boy up. "Don't be upset, Lorna. He just thinks the baby's cute, he wanted to touch her."

I stared at the beads of blood on my daughter's face, my heart aching. "Cute? Then how about I draw a line across your son's face and we see? Why should my daughter suffer this?"

Edwin came at the noise, his tone flat.

"How much strength can a little kid have? You're a grown woman, can't you just give the boy a little slack?"

I looked at him, unable to believe it. "Your daughter's face is bleeding and you haven't glanced at her once, start to finish. Are you blind?"

He faltered, probably not expecting me to lose my temper.

"What are you throwing a fit for? Is a little thing like this worth all the shouting?"

I was shaking all over with rage. "Since she was born, you've never held her once, never hushed her once. Is this how you're a father?"

He rubbed the space between his brows, all weariness. "I'm worn out enough running the company every day. Do you have to bother me with this petty nonsense?"

I looked at him with a bitter smile. "Edwin, the day I had her I was in labor for fourteen hours, and you wouldn't even pick up the phone."

"I hemorrhaged after the birth and nearly died on the table, and you had a nurse sign for you."

"I told myself you were busy with work, I tried so hard to understand. But you were with Matilda and your son the whole time."

His face darkened. "Enough. What's the point of dragging up the past? Can't you have some dignity?"

Matilda gave his sleeve a soft tug. "Edwin, let me take the baby to rest. Don't let him hear all this ugliness."

Edwin nodded, and his eyes were cold when they landed on me.

"I'll sleep in the guest room with Matilda and my son. You calm yourself down."

All at once I felt so tired. Something broke inside my chest.

"Let's separate."

He didn't catch that I hadn't said divorce. His mouth curled into a sneer.

"Lorna Winfield, what did you say?"

"Go ahead and make a scene if you want, see if anyone believes you. Do you know what I'm worth now? What do you think you have to stand up to me with?"

"You don't even have a job. You think a court will give our daughter to you? What would you raise her on?"

I opened my mouth, my throat tightening.

He said coldly, "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay home like a good girl and raise the child. You'll get every cent of your allowance."

"Otherwise I'll leave you with nothing, and you'll never see the child again."

"Think it over. Where could you go without me? Could you even survive?"