And there, on the chintz sofa she’d reupholstered with her own hands, sat Robert with his personal assistant, Melissa—a peroxide blonde young enough to be their granddaughter.
A gaudy diamond ring glittered on Melissa’s finger.
Robert’s arm was draped around her with the casual possession of a man who’d never once been denied.
‘Eleanor, you’re back early,’ Robert said flatly, not bothering to move.
‘Melissa and I were going to do this more formally, but since you’re here, congratulations are in order. I’ve asked her to marry me. She’s carrying my child.’
He squeezed Melissa’s shoulder as if she were a prize steer.
Eleanor’s throat closed.
‘Robert, I just came from Dr. Wells. The cancer—it’s gone. I’m in remission.’
Her voice was thin, a desperate thread reaching for some memory of the man she’d married.