Chapter 4His Thirty Minute Wife

I watched the red taillights of Marcus’s sedan disappear down the avenue.

I typed back: No. Don't tell him. Thank you.

I slipped the phone away and turned to Audrey.

She was scratching Penny’s ears through the carrier mesh. The sweet, innocent mask was completely gone, replaced by a cool, calculating stillness.

“Marcus told me you called him in a panic after your appointment,” Audrey said, her gaze dropping to my stomach. “Doesn't look like an emergency to me. Tessa, do yourself a favor: file for divorce. You two are a terrible match.”

I let out a harsh laugh. “And why would I do that?”

Audrey paused. She looked at me for a long, quiet moment, her eyes rimmed with sudden, manic heat. Then, she unlocked her iPhone, tapped the screen twice, and turned it toward me.

It was a photograph.

Marcus, shirtless and asleep, his arm draped across a plush white duvet in what was undeniably a high-end hotel room. Pressed against his bare chest was Audrey, smiling into the lens.

“We slept together,” she said, her voice dropping to a calm, brutal whisper. “The night before your wedding.”

My vocal cords seized. The street noise around us seemed to drop into a vacuum.

“Surprised?” Audrey stepped closer, her perfume—the Santal 33 I had bought her for her birthday—filling the cold air between us. “We had too much bourbon after the rehearsal dinner. He wanted me, Tessa. He’s always wanted me. But he’s a man of honor, right? He insisted on keeping his commitment to you. He tried to draw lines. But a man like that… why should you get him when all you do is complain?”

She reached out and took my limp, icy fingers into her warm hands, squeezing them with perverse tenderness.

“Let him go. You saw how he looked at me in there. Instinct doesn't lie. If you don't believe me, let’s make a bet. You could be dying, and he’d still check his calendar first. But me? One text, and he’ll run through traffic.”