Chapter 2

The shovel froze mid-swing.

Preston's parents stumbled out behind him, faces flushed from wine. His mother squinted at me through the porch light, confused.

Preston, who is this Why is there a woman bleeding on my porch

His father's voice was harder. Some lunatic showing up Christmas Eve to start a fight. Get her off my property.

I laughed. It came out hoarse.

Three years of Christmas cards. Three years of holiday baskets I shipped you from California. And you're going to stand there and pretend you don't know my face

Something shifted in his mother's expression. She caught it fast and went hard.

I have never seen you before in my life. Don't you dare try to attach yourself to this family.

His father jumped in, pointing at me for the neighbors to see. Our son has one wife. That's Serena. Standing right there. Everyone in this town has known her for years.

You hear that

The man kneeling on my back leaned in close. His breath smelled like Coors. Even the family don't know you, sweetheart. Have some shame.

Preston wouldn't look at me. He stared at the porch boards.

Vivienne. Just — go. We can talk about this later.

Later

I twisted under the man's grip. He pressed harder. I lifted my head until I could lock eyes with my husband.

Right now. In front of all of them. Say it out loud. Am I or am I not your wife

Preston's mouth opened. Nothing came out. His eyes kept skating away from mine.

The neighbors had gone quiet. Even the men holding me down had stopped grinning.

A little voice cut through the porch.

Bad lady! Don't hurt my mommy and daddy!

A boy ran out from behind Preston's legs. Maybe five years old. Light brown hair, big eyes. He flew straight into Serena's arms, then turned around and threw his little body in front of her, arms spread wide.

You're a bad lady. Go away. Don't touch my mommy and daddy!

Mommy and daddy.

I stared at him. Then I turned my neck slowly, because the cold had locked it up, and looked at Preston.

He bent down. Pulled the kid into his chest. Buried his face in the boy's hair.

It's okay, buddy. Daddy's right here. Daddy's right here.

Preston had told me three years into the marriage that he couldn't have kids. We'd cried about it together.

The boy in his arms had his jawline.

I started laughing. It came out wrong, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and I couldn't stop.

The neighbors were whispering now. Louder.

Wait — is the husband actually cheating She came all this way

Poor thing if it's true. Serena's a sweetheart. They got the boy and everything.

Preston always seemed so put-together. Goes to show.

His mother's face went purple. She lunged forward and jabbed a finger at my face.

You shut your mouth! My son is not that kind of man, you hear me

Her chest was heaving. She turned to the neighbors, voice climbing.

Look at her! Showing up in some beat-up Volvo, dressed like a bag lady. My son runs a tech company in California. You really think he'd touch trash like this

His father piled on. Some homewrecker tramp who saw a rich man and got ideas. Our daughter-in-law is Serena. Her father's a major business contact of Preston's. Money. Class. Everything this one isn't.

They tore me apart in front of fifty neighbors and propped Serena up on a pedestal in the same breath.

But one piece snagged in my head.

Her father's a major business contact.

Every supplier and partner Hayes Tech had ever signed with traced back to a Vance Global subsidiary. I'd vetted every one personally. There was no Croft on any of those boards.

I didn't have time to think about it. Preston had snapped.

He shoved the boy back into his mother's arms, stepped to the edge of the porch, and pointed down at me.

Vivienne, enough. How many times do I have to say this We were over years ago.

I have a wife. I have a son. You need to stop showing up at my life like some psycho. Do you hear yourself Do you have any self-respect

Serena's jaw dropped. Then it clicked.

She tore across the porch and slapped me across the face so hard my ear rang.

The crack of it echoed off the houses across the street.

She leaned down, finger in my face, voice shaking with righteous fury.

You're her You're the crazy ex he's been telling me about for years The one who won't leave him alone Preston barely even mentions you because it upsets him so much, and you have the nerve to drag yourself out here on Christmas Eve

She pulled back and kicked me in the stomach.

Everything inside me lit up. Something tore. I tasted copper, then spat blood onto the porch boards.

I dragged my head up. Used everything I had left to wrench an arm free.

Preston. If she's really your wife, show me the marriage certificate. Right now.