Elena
The wedding ring landed with a metallic ping against the floor, rolling in a small circle before coming to a stop against the toe of Killian’s shoe. For a moment, neither of us moved. The silence between us suddenly pulled taut like a rubber band about to snap as he stared down at that small silver band with Natalie’s initials engraved inside.
The sight of it lying there, discarded on the cold marble floor, pulled me back to that awful day three years ago—five for me, I supposed, in my past life.
Our wedding day.
I stood in the small dressing room adjacent to the chapel, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress hung loose on my frame, everywhere except for the bust, which was too small and squeezed my breasts so much it hurt.
The seamstress had
