Kayla
The blood drained from my face as I stared at the photograph on the coffee table. I felt sick. My stomach twisted, threatening to betray me as I forced myself to stay still. The room suddenly felt stifling, the air thick and hard to swallow.
There Nicholas was, in the same clothes he was wearing now, sitting at a candlelit table in a fancy restaurant. Across from him sat a beautiful woman I didn’t recognize, leaning toward him with an expression on her face that could only be described as flirtatious.
Her perfectly styled hair, her red lips curved into a coy smile—everything about her screamed the type of woman Nicholas would entertain.
The kind of woman he’d leave me behind for.
I wasn’t jealous. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. I knew from the beg
