Chapter 1

Winford Campbell was killed in a plane crash during a business trip.

I was pregnant with his child—that was the only thing that kept me from joining him in death.

At the OB-GYN clinic, I bumped into a man who looked exactly like him, except for a teardrop mole at the corner of his eye.

He said he didn't know me, so I assumed he was just someone with similar looks.

Later, his buddy Neil Sims told me the truth: he hadn't died at all.

He'd been with his new lover, helping her through childbirth.

In a few days, he'd spin a story about never boarding that flight—that he'd been kidnapped instead.

He would stash that woman away in Plord, reveling in the best of both worlds.

I asked Neil, "Why are you telling me all this?"

Neil replied, "I want you to marry me. He's not worthy of you at all."

I terminated my pregnancy and married Neil.

Winford stood in the rain all night, pleading for one last chance to see me.

Winford was on a business trip to Plord when his private plane crashed, killing him and everyone else on board.

I cried until I passed out at his funeral.

A checkup revealed I was already more than a month pregnant.

I decided to keep the baby.

During my prenatal appointment, I spotted a man who looked identical to Winford.

He had his arm around a woman whose baby bump was already showing.

He claimed he didn't know me.

Panicking, I rushed up, grabbed his hand, and stared at the face I'd been dreaming of day and night, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Winford."

He looked at me with completely unfamiliar eyes. "I don't know you. My name is Agustin."

The woman beside him linked her arm through his and called out, shooting me a hostile glance. "Honey, it's our turn."

That was when I noticed the red mole under his left eye.

Something Winford never had.

Dazed, I let go of his hand, my heart sinking with crushing disappointment.

It wasn't him.

He really was gone.

I picked up the pearl necklace the woman had dropped and went after them.

Out on the hospital lawn, I saw a familiar figure—Neil.

He was Winford's close friend.

Why was he with this man? Just a coincidence?

I watched as Neil glared at him in fury. "Do you have any idea how devastated Lizzie was when she heard you were dead? She cried until she fainted, and then found out she was already..."

"Penelope's seven months along and due any day now. I couldn't let her go through labor alone—you know childbirth is like walking through the gates of hell. I had to fake my death so I could take care of her properly for a few months."

Neil was cut off mid-sentence.

I stood there frozen, my hands and feet turning to ice.

It took me forever to process those simple words.

Winford had faked his death.

All to look after his mistress while she gave birth.

Her seven-month belly was proof he'd been cheating on me for a long time.

Neil sneered at him. "If you can't let go of another woman, you should divorce Lizzie and stop stringing her along.

I'll never divorce Lizzie. Once Penelope has the baby, I'll send her back to Plord. She won't show up in Lizzie's life again. I'll tell her I never got on the plane—that I was kidnapped and barely escaped. One in the north, one in Plord—they'll never cross paths."

"Then why come back to Antaford now? Aren't you afraid Lizzie might see you and get hurt?"

"I tattooed a mole under my eye; she won't recognize me. My mom wants to be there for her eldest grandson's birth."

I saw him haul off and punch Winford, cursing him as a bastard.

Neil stormed away in a rage.

I quickly ducked behind a tree.

Clutching my prenatal report tightly.

One in Antaford, one in Plord—no interference.

I'd been in agony over his death, lying awake night after night.

All he cared about was having his cake and eating it too.

I stumbled back to the Campbell family home in a fog, my mind numb and hazy.

Winford had returned as well, with Penelope Braun by his side.

My mother-in-law Margery Campbell grabbed my arm and introduced him, "This is Winford's cousin. He heard about his passing and rushed over from Plord to pay his last respects."

I stared at Margery, realizing she'd been part of the lie all along, and my heart went ice-cold.

No wonder she'd been able to stay so composed—handling the funeral arrangements more calmly than I could—despite always cherishing Winford like he was her whole world.

It had all been a setup from the start.

"And this is his wife—she's seven months pregnant. Could you help look after her?"

I hadn't even told Margery about my own pregnancy yet.

She'd been dying for a grandchild.