From Now On, We Drift Apart in Silence

Summary

In the eighth year of my marriage to Adrian Monroe, he brought his little songbird home.

That night, with my own two hands, I pushed the woman down the stairs.

To punish me for my "unreasonable" fit of jealousy, Adrian pinned me to the floor, his foot on my back.

“I told you,” he hissed, “don’t you ever touch her.”

“If you can’t learn to behave, you can crawl back to the gutter you came from.”

In the dead of night, I was forced onto a private jet, not even allowed a single glance at my newborn son.

Three years passed before Adrian Monroe’s call finally reached my new husband.