Blanche never imagined she’d see Eddy again. The roar of the ocean crashed in her ears, dragging old memories up with every wave.
She had thought she’d moved on, that she’d buried it all. But the images of Eddy and Jeannette’s betrayal flooded her mind—vivid, merciless.
For five years, they’d carried on behind her back. When Blanche was struggling through a dangerous labor, Eddy was at the other woman’s bedside, welcoming her child into the world.
Their own daughter died, and Eddy let Jeannette’s child take her place—right down to stealing her daughter’s name. He’d even tried to convince Blanche to adopt the child, to raise her and give her everything her own daughter should have had.
He knew Jeannette was Blanche’s half-sister. He knew Blanche’s mother had died bitter and broken because of Jeannette’s mother. Yet he’d still chosen Jeannette, again and again.
He’d told their son to call Jeannette “Mom,” and to treat her daughter like his own little sister.
He’d swallowed Blanche’s mother’s entire inheritance—insurance money and all.
Repeatedly, he’d tried to force Blanche to abort their child.
Blanche wrenched her hand free from Eddy’s grasp, but his arms remained locked around her, pulling her hard against his chest.
That crisp scent of cedar filled her nose, making her stomach lurch with nausea.
“Please, honey, just listen to me,” Eddy pleaded, clinging to her like a drowning man. He could feel her, real and warm in his arms. His heart pounded so violently it hurt.
“I know I was wrong. I swear I’ll never betray you again. Three years ago, I threw Jeannette out of Novandria, sent Lara Anderson to a foster home, and about your mother’s insurance—she really did put my name down, but only so I could keep it safe for you. I transferred it all to your account.”
“I knew how badly you wanted a daughter, but your heart—your body—couldn't survive another pregnancy. That’s why I thought… I thought having a daughter who looked like both of us might make you happy.”
“I was wrong. I swear, I’ll never make another decision for you again. Honey,” he whispered, his eyes dark and wrecked with pain, “please, give me one more chance. I love you. I can’t lose you.”
He was pleading—truly pleading—for the first time in his life.
Blanche looked at Eddy, her face blank, her eyes colder than winter steel. She watched him suffer, but her voice was ice. “Let me go.”
Eddy only tightened his grip, desperate to keep her, to make her his again.
Regret and longing twisted through his features. If only he’d stopped that plane, searched the ninth floor of the government building, or pulled open the door of that black car with the flag—maybe then she wouldn’t have listened to Ablett, maybe she would have forgiven him.
But now, meeting Blanche’s look of disgust, a dull agony tore through him. He trembled all over.
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