Divorced the CEO After His Mistress Killed My Father

Five years after Ryan Stephens came back to me, we went to visit my father's grave.

On our way out, I ran into Sandra Henson—the woman who'd wrecked my marriage and killed my father.

She stood hunched against the bitter wind, a few bundles of white chrysanthemums strapped to her back, hawking them to passersby.

Ryan's steps faltered for just a moment before he steered me away, his expression carefully blank.

But halfway home, he said he'd dropped something at the cemetery.

"It's freezing out there," he insisted. "Stay in the car. I'll go alone."

I followed him anyway.