Oliver

I watch as Giselle turns around and, hand in hand with that miserable bastard Dubois, walks away from me—completely ignoring my command to come back. I take a step forward to go after them when a hand stops me.

“What are you doing, Oliver?” my mother demands, clearly agitated.

“I’m going to take my wife back and—”

“That filthy whore will never set foot in my house again,” she snaps, her eyes full of hate as she glares at the woman disappearing from view. “We might as ...