My husband took my stepdaughter to Christmas with his ex and told me I wasn’t her real mother—so I chose myself, walked away, and rebuilt a life they never saw coming.
Alexander came into the kitchen twenty minutes later, freshly showered, trailing expensive cologne and cowardice. He kissed Camila on the head, then glanced at Mariana as though expecting swollen eyes or pleading. He found neither. She poured coffee into a travel mug and set a plate in front of Camila.
