Pancakes for a Stranger's Love

My husband vanished on our fifth anniversary, leaving me frantic with worry.

I thought something terrible had happened until a stranger named Jayda sent me a photo.

He wasn't missing; he was in a penthouse, flipping pancakes for her with a smile he hadn't shown me in years.

When I tracked them down, Bennett didn't apologize.

He shoved me away to protect his pregnant mistress, looking at me with pure disgust.

"You're a liability, Iris," he spat, cutting off my access to our bank accounts. "Stop being hysterical."