No Return After Goodbye

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident.

I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition.

The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there.

At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral.

Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love.

He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death.

"Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were."

I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust.

"Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

"Got engaged?"

Brandon Adkins's face darkened instantly. His hand trembled as he grabbed my shoulders, but his eyes never once left Alanna Harmon.

"Jocelyn, don't joke around. It's only been three years. You were a widow with a child. Who could you possibly have gotten engaged to? I admit I was wrong. I'll make it up to you however you want."

I met his panicked gaze.

I tried to speak, but the moment I saw Alanna standing behind him, my eyes burned red.

So all those endless days and nights I spent grieving him, he had been traveling the world with another woman.

And me? Even on the verge of giving birth, I didn't matter at all.

I pushed Brandon away again. "Just let me go."

Maybe I used too much force, because I bumped into Alanna behind him.

Brandon's expression turned cold, laced with irritation.

"That's enough, Jocelyn. You don't need to keep pretending. What do you want? A designer bag? A car? A house? I owe you. I'll transfer that riverfront condo into your name. Is that enough? Even if you don't care about me, think about our baby. By now, our child should be three, right?"

The word "baby" made my fingers tremble uncontrollably.

So he knew. He knew that when he faked his death, I was seven months pregnant.

My baby was so small and fragile.

When the doctors had to remove it piece by piece from my body, where was Brandon?

Was he standing on a snow-covered mountain, watching the sunrise with Alanna, making promises? Or was he holding her close beneath the northern lights somewhere at the edge of the world?

My vision blurred as tears spilled over, unstoppable.

"Our baby died the day you staged your death."

Brandon's face went completely dark. He grabbed my wrist, fingers tightening until my bones nearly cracked.

"Jocelyn, I said I was wrong. Isn't that enough? Our child is three. Don't say things like that just to upset