My Cheating Husband's Regret

a's

pot. But I didn't. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and hurried across the marble flo

the old days. Five years of marriage. Some of it good. Most of it...

"Hey, Isla. I'm on my way to your place. Just landed." I blinked. "What? Wa

inutes later, the doorbell rang again. And I opened it. There she was. Fiona Stewart. Blo

It's really you." We hugged like we hadn't been ghosting each other for years. "Come in," I said

hed. "Still the

or

"Thanks bestie, it's a house he bought few years ago." She turned serious. "I wouldn't be here if I had anywhere else, Isla.

on her and the tears in her eyes. Fiona wasn't built to break. She was the one who used

hat ab

ening her face. "Just a few weeks. I'll be invisible." I didn't believe

ked, drank wine, and immediately got back in touch. She seemed to still know me better than eve

dark suit, colder eyes. Dropped his briefcase without looking at it. His ga

culated. "Of course." He answered. "Hi, Lachlan," Fiona said, too sweet. "Be

I muttered. "I didn't ask when. I asked how long she's staying." I swallowed. "A few weeks. She needs a place." I

, jaw locked. "You should've ask

act

Just stared, like he was trying to read something behind my eyes. Something I

ehearsed and a kind of a peace offering. He kissed me back

have opene