The Broken Halo
Language: en
After three years of marriage, Caleb Sterling’s newest little mistress finally had the nerve to show up at my door. She screamed at me, calling me a "washed-up housewife." She demanded to know what right I had to stay by Caleb’s side. I looked at her with dull, tired eyes. "The right comes from the years he spent in the gutters of Brooklyn, eating scraps to survive. I was the one who held him through it." The girl tilted her chin up, her gaze full of contempt. "So you met him a few years earlier. You really think that’s a legacy worth bragging about?"