I was stunned. He had never looked at me like that before.
Back when news reports of domestic violence terrified me, Quentin had held me close and promised, “I would never so much as raise my voice at you. If I ever treat you badly, may I be damned to the deepest hell.”
That promise still echoed in my ears, yet now, he was telling me to be understanding.
I swallowed my pain and nodded.
Quentin let out a breath of relief—until I stepped past him and faced Olivia directly. I held out my hand.
“Olivia, sorry, but the ring on your finger is mine. Please return it.”
Olivia blinked in surprise, then suddenly burst into tears, turning to Quentin like a fragile flower in the storm. “Quentin, isn’t this the ring you gave me as a gift when I remembered our love? How could it be hers? Did you lie to me?”
Panic flashed across Quentin’s face. He frantically wiped her tears. “Don’t cry, Liv. It breaks my heart to see you sad.”
I stood frozen, watching my groom shower another woman with affection.
One of his groomsmen stepped in. “My bad! I mixed up the rings. I was in charge of them today, and somehow, Quentin’s gift got switched with the wedding ring.”
Olivia pouted and yanked the ring off, tossing it to the floor in disgust.
“I don’t wear other people’s leftovers.”
The ring rolled to the side. I bent down to pick it up.
A sharp pain shot through my hand.
