“ I do.”

Tessa didn't recognize her own voice. It sounded distant, mechanical, like it belonged to someone else standing at the altar in her white dress.

The church was filled. Cameras flashed. Guests smiled. Applause echoed softly. But she felt nothing but ache in her chest, a pain that refused to die.

Her hands were cold in his.

Grayson Beaumont. Her husband.

Even the word felt foreign and heavy. Her eyes still burns but she has not cried since she agreed, nor screamed, or fight. She just trembled slightly as if internally wanting to disappear, wanting everything to end.

The priest waited for the applause to die down before...