He Spent a Year Paying a Doctor to Write Down a Fragile, Unstable Version of Me That Didn’t Exist — So When He Finally Set Me Aside, the Whole World Would Believe I’d Simply Come Apart on My Own

“And you’ll still marry her?” Gabriel asked.

“After all this?”

“Of course I’ll marry her,” Christian said.

“My whole clean-cut image is built on her — the regular girl, the art-gallery sweetheart who loved me before the fame.

That story is worth millions in endorsements.

Sabrina just wants a real wedding, once, and I can give her that in private.

Genevieve I keep for the cameras.” And there it was, the whole architecture of my life, spoken aloud by the man who built it.

I had not fallen in love with Christian Prescott.