Tears filled my eyes.
For years I had begged someone else to choose me.
That night, I realized I didn’t need to beg anymore.
A few months later, an email arrived.
The sender’s name made my stomach tighten.
Rodrigo Santillán.
I hadn’t spoken to him since the divorce.
Hadn’t seen him.
Hadn’t wanted to.
I opened the message.
The subject line read:
Wedding Invitation
I almost laughed.
Then I read the rest.
“I thought you might want to see what a real family looks like. Valeria and I would be honored to have you attend.”
I stared at the screen.
Then read it again.
The cruelty was unbelievable.
Even after everything, he still wanted to hurt me.
Daniel walked into the room.
“What is it?”
I handed him the phone.
His jaw tightened.
“He wants an audience.”
I looked toward the playroom where my children were building a tower out of colorful blocks.
Then I smiled.
A calm smile.
A dangerous smile.
“Then let’s give him one.”
The wedding was held at a luxury estate outside Dallas.
