Chapter 1

After seven years of a secret marriage, I went to Blue Rock Gallery without telling my husband, Edward Stone, planning to celebrate our wedding anniversary.

As soon as I stepped into the lobby, a security guard sized me up. "Oh, so you're the mistress Mr. Stone keeps on the side, huh?

"Mrs. Stone just found out she's pregnant, and you're already here trying to take her place?"

I froze.

I was Edward's wife.

Then who was the one who was pregnant?

I gave a cold chuckle, dialed Edward's number, and put him on speaker. "Mr. Stone, you've got three minutes to bring your wife down here. Otherwise, you can forget about putting on this exhibition today."

The whole gallery went dead silent, only the hum of the air conditioner breaking the quiet.

I stood in the lobby of Blue Rock Gallery, holding a small cake box.

Today was my seventh wedding anniversary with Edward.

We'd been married in secret for seven years.

He always said the art scene was crawling with rumors, and if anyone found out about us, they'd say every painting he made was hyped up because of me.

He promised that once Blue Rock Gallery made a name for itself and he finally hosted his first big show, he'd take my hand and introduce me to everyone.

*****

I believed him.

I removed my name from the exhibition roster to keep him from getting distracted.

The hall was filled with white roses. Edward's new works hung on the walls. The lights shone brightly overhead.

The girl at the front desk spotted me. Her gaze drifted first to my dress, then to the cake in my hands. A strange look crossed her face.

As I headed for the elevator, a security guard in a black uniform stepped in front of me.

His walkie-talkie was clipped to his belt, crackling loudly. "Stop right there."

I stopped.

He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on the cake box, then snorted. "What? Bringing a surprise?"

I was confused and said, "I'm here to see Edward."

"You think you can call him Mr. Stone?" He jerked his chin toward the second floor. "I've seen plenty of women trying to sneak in here, but you've got some guts."

My fingers paused for a moment on the cake box's handle.

He continued, "Trying to steal the spotlight at the big opening, huh? Don't dream about it. Mrs. Stone just found out she's pregnant. She was here last week, and Mr. Stone personally helped her in. Everyone saw it.

"So you're here to make a scene now? Not embarrassed enough yet, huh?"

A few people in the lobby stopped in their tracks.

Someone whispered, "Isn't she the one who always sends flowers?"

"I heard Mr. Stone had an ex-girlfriend who wouldn't let him go."

"She looks sweet, but she's got a nasty heart."

I watched their mouths move, and suddenly, it all seemed absurd.

Mrs. Stone? Pregnant?

My marriage license with Edward was locked in the third drawer of my study at home.

Legally, I was his wife. So who was the Mrs. Stone they were talking about?

We had been together for seven years.

I set up meetings with collectors for him, restored his ruined paintings, and stood by his side through the hardest three years of his life.

When he couldn't paint, I'd tear up my own drafts and keep him company through endless nights until dawn.

If he needed dignity, I made sure he had it.

If he wanted his reputation spotless, I made sure I stayed in the shadows.

I had hidden our marriage all this time. Yet a security guard pointed straight at me and called me his mistress.

I laughed.

The security guard frowned. "What's so funny?"

I didn't answer.

I dug out my phone, scrolled to Edward's number, and hit dial.

I tapped the speaker.

The phone rang twice before Edward's gentle voice came through. "Evelyn? Calling me at this hour. Do you miss me?"

For the past seven years, his voice had always melted my heart.

But now, it made me feel sick to my stomach.

The whole lobby went dead silent.

I looked up at the painting, front and center.

It was called Homeward. That was the sketch I made for him years ago.

I was surprised at how steady I sounded. "Mr. Stone, you've got three minutes. Bring down the pregnant Mrs. Stone, whom everyone's been talking about from upstairs. Otherwise—"

I watched as the security guard's face turned pale in an instant.

"You can forget about putting on this exhibition today," I added.

There was silence on the other end.