My Husband's Mistress Wore My Wedding Gown To Marry Him

Synopsis

I arranged the last white peony in the crystal vase, stepping back to admire the delicate blooms against the mahogany dining table. Perfect. Three years of marriage had taught me exactly how James liked things—elegant but understated. The silver candelabra cast a warm glow across our anniversary dinner setting, the flames dancing in rhythm with my heartbeat. "To three years," I whispered, rehearsing my toast for the fifth time. "To the man who asked thirty-two times before I said yes. To patience, to persistence, to love that never wavers." My voice caught on the last word. Something had been different lately. The way James looked through me rather than at me. The late nights at the office.