PART 1 — THE WEDDING

Five years after our divorce, my former husband stood across from me at my younger cousin’s wedding and smiled as if he had been waiting for that exact moment.

The reception was being held at an elegant waterfront hotel in Biloxi, Mississippi.

Tall windows overlooked the harbor.

White flowers covered the tables.

Soft music drifted through the ballroom.

Relatives I had not seen in years were dancing beneath warm chandeliers while servers moved between tables carrying champagne.

I had just returned from the terrace when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Well, if it isn’t Nora.”

I knew that voice before I turned.

Gavin Albright.

My former husband.

He looked polished in a charcoal tuxedo.

Dark hair carefully styled.

One hand resting casually in his pocket.

The exact posture he used whenever he wanted the room to know he believed he belonged at the center of it.

Beside him stood Brenda Finch.

The woman he had chosen long before our marriage had officially ended.

Brenda wore a fitted burgundy dress.