My throat burned.
“But I stayed.”
Andrew’s eyes dropped.
“You ran.”
I walked back into Elowen’s reception and found my uncle, who was a retired police officer.
Within minutes, hotel security was involved.
Then the police came.
There were questions about Callum’s death, the false identification, insurance documents, and everything Andrew had done afterward.
I gave my statement.
So did Clementine.
Freya left before Andrew did.
She carried her wedding dress over one arm.
Three months earlier, I had believed losing Andrew was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I was wrong.
The worst thing was discovering that the man I loved had chosen to let me grieve him.
But that discovery also gave me something his funeral never had.
An ending.
When I left the hotel that night, I passed a mirror near the lobby.
For months, I had barely recognized the woman looking back at me.
