Meadow’s POV:

My breath stuttered and my eyelids fluttered. I had to physically clutch my chest through my top because his words had cut me deeply.

‘Most marriages are jokes,’ he’d said. Like ours. Like my marriage to Alaric. A contract, his need to feel touch, my need to be ruined. It wasn’t real. None of it was.

Yvonne scowled, curling her fists on the table. “I’m going to have a talk with his manager,” she gritted out, but before she could rise to her feet, I stopped ...