The day she gave birth, Julian Crane said, "Vivienne, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I've been having an affair."
The sutures on her abdomen were still tender. Vivienne froze, her mind going blank.
"What did you just say?"
He held the newborn, his confession easy and unhurried. "It's been two years. I kept putting it off."
Vivienne heard her own voice shaking. "Then why tell me now?"
"Because you've finally given me a son. Which means you'll never leave me."
Julian leaned down and kissed Vivienne's ashen lips. "Don't worry. Even if I have someone else, you're still the one I love most."
She stared at the man she'd thought she knew — still composed, still handsome, still warm — and felt herself come apart. Tears ran down her face before she could stop them.
She'd grown up without her parents. Raised by her grandmother, she'd spent twenty-odd years starving for love. Then she'd met Julian at work — her supervisor, who'd fallen for her at first sight and pursued her relentlessly.
He was tender and attentive. Charming in every way.
She'd let herself fall, diving headlong into a marriage everyone said was above her station.
She hadn't imagined — couldn't have — that the man who'd held her every night during her pregnancy, who'd leapt out of bed at 3 a.m. just to hold her hair back when she was sick, who'd whispered "just this one, just this one" — she hadn't imagined he would do this.
She remembered something she'd said to him once.
"Julian, if we ever have a child, promise me we won't end up like my parents. I grew up without anyone. I don't want that for our baby."
And he'd pulled her close and promised her everything.
I swear, Vivienne. I'll never leave you. Our child will always have a complete home.
He'd taken that vow — the one she'd given him from her deepest wound — and used it as a leash. Decided that once she gave him a son, she'd never have the nerve to walk away.
He was wrong.
Vivienne Ashford had never in her life been able to look the other way.
"Who is she?"
The words had barely left her lips when the hospital door burst open. A crowd flooded in — men and women — some carrying flowers, some holding a cake.
"Congratulations, Julian! Another son!"
"We heard you'd been waiting for this day — we couldn't miss it! And we brought her, so we could all celebrate together!"
The next second, a woman carrying a baby was ushered through the door.
She looked up slowly and smiled across the room at Vivienne. "Mrs. Crane. You just gave birth. You must be exhausted."
The moment Vivienne saw her face, the blood drained from her body.
It was Natalie Harris — her personal yoga instructor.
And the child in Natalie's arms was already a year old.
The blows kept coming, wave after wave.
Vivienne felt her heart seized in a fist. She couldn't breathe.
"Why?"
She looked around the room — at all of them — and her gaze settled on Julian.
"Julian. Why? You told me the day you proposed that you'd never betray me. Your forever — was that only five years?"
Julian exhaled slowly. "We've been married five years, Vivienne. I held on for three. Doesn't that count for something? Come on — it's been a long day. Get some rest. I'll take you home when you're ready."
He paused. "Natalie's offered to help during your recovery. She's been through this herself, so she knows what you need."
Natalie tucked her hand into Julian's arm and gave Vivienne a warm, easy smile.
"I know this must be difficult to hear, Mrs. Crane. But I want you to know — I have no intention of taking your place. I'm happy being what I am to Julian. I've been in his life for two years now, we even have a child together, and I've never once come to make trouble for you. That should tell you something."
