There are moments that divide your life into a before and an after.
Mine happened at exactly 11:23 on an ordinary Tuesday night.
The instant I unlocked my apartment door, I heard laughter drifting from my bedroom.
It wasn’t innocent laughter.
It was intimate, careless, and so familiar that my stomach twisted before my mind even understood why.
My fingers tightened around my purse as I stood frozen in the hallway.
The bedroom door was slightly open, and a thin strip of light spilled onto the floor.
Every instinct told me to turn around, but I couldn’t.
I took one slow step after another until I could finally see inside.
Liam, the man I’d loved for three years, was lying in my bed.
He wasn’t alone.
The woman beside him had long blonde hair almost identical to mine.