After My Husband Chose His Mistress Over My Dying Mother

The rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Cole Tower, each drop a tiny fist pounding the glass. I stood in the marble-floored lobby, watching Jason emerge from the private elevator with her.

Maren Green.

Even from across the cavernous space, the resemblance stole my breath. She looked exactly like the woman in the silver-framed photograph that Jason kept locked in his desk drawer—the one he thought I didn't know about. Indie Green. His first love. His dead love.

Except Indie was dead, and this woman was very much alive.

Maren's laugh carried across the lobby, light and musical, and I watched my husband's face transform into something I hadn't seen in the three years of our marriage. Wonder. The kind of unguarded joy that made my chest tighten with a feeling I refused to name.

I pressed my lips together, hard, and walked toward them.

"Jason."

He turned, and just like that, the warmth drained from his expression. His jaw clenched—that familiar tell when I'd interrupted something he deemed important.

"Savannah." My name came out flat. "This is Maren Green. Indie's twin sister. She's just returned from London."

Maren extended a delicate hand, her smile sweet enough to rot teeth. "You must be the wife. Jason's told me so much about you."

I seriously doubted that. I shook her hand anyway, feeling the coldness of her fingers even through her practiced warmth. Up close, the resemblance to the photos was uncanny, but something was different. Indie's eyes in those pictures had held light. Maren's glittered with something else entirely.

"Welcome back to New York," I managed.

"I've asked Maren to join Cole Enterprises," Jason said, already turning away from me, back to her. "She has an MBA from Oxford and extensive experience in corporate finance. She'll be taking over our financial operations."

The marble floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "Financial operations? Jason, that's—"

"Effective immediately, your household allowances will be suspended." His voice could have frozen the rain outside. "All financial requests go through Maren now."

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline that never came. "You're serious."

"Completely." He narrowed his eyes, and I saw it—that familiar suspicion that had poisoned our marriage from the beginning. "My mother was right about you, wasn't she? You married me to get access to Cole money. To spy on the company for her."

The accusation hit like a slap. We'd had this argument before, behind closed doors, but never in front of a stranger. Never with such cold finality.

"That's not—" My voice cracked. I swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in my hands. "Jason, I love you. I've never—"

"Love." He laughed, bitter and sharp. "Right. We'll see how long that lasts without the credit cards, won't we?"

Maren tilted her head, mock sympathy dripping from her features. "Oh, this is awkward. Should I give you two a moment?"

"No need," Jason said. "Savannah was just leaving."

I wanted to scream. To grab him by his thousand-dollar suit