oe

eephole, I saw a stranger in a well-tailored suit holding a briefcase

asked, my voice

Arthur Reynolds. I'm Mr. Kensington's attorney. I apologize for c

me, so intense it was almost

e door and

unreadable. He handed me a thick folder. "Ms. Miller, these are the divorce papers. Mr. Kensington has already sig

t was right here. I flipped to the last page and saw it: Caleb Kensing

nter and signed my name beneath his. I could fe

y name, a tremendous weight lift

l the best," Mr. Reynolds said,

of high heels echoed in the hallway. My apartment door, w

the room, flanked by two large men in dark suits. Her frigid gaze swep

wavered. "Mrs. Kensington," he said,

mother, Eleanor Kensingto

re you doing h

divorce papers. Can't I

r and me, walked right past me into my bedroom as if it wer

n's dress shirt. The very shirt I had grabbed in my panic, the one I had worn under m

d me. "You've been so desperate that you've brought men back to your apartment

nderstanding..." Mr. Reynold

at he shouldn't just marry any woman for the sake of a public image!

burn with shame. Several neighbors, drawn by

a fire in my chest. I met her ga

t-shaming me, perhaps you should discipline your own son, the coward who sent a lawyer

ace twisted with fury. "How d

belonged to a friend who left it here, and you have no proof of any infidelity. In ninety days, I will hav

ching as her mouth twisted into a snarl of anger. Mr.

d by the curious stares of the neighbors, as she decided

clicked shut, my composure shattered. I sank down against the door, c

he counter. I needed to go somewhere I could pull myself together, som

nd the brand new ovens. This was my dream. And now, it

ensington's agent, Tristan Stone. The contract stated

g time before a calm mal

ther, Eleanor Kensington, just publicly humiliated and threatened me. I believe this is