They say true love makes a woman radiant. Noble. Beautiful.
But my marriage? It was a prison.
For seven years, I wore the shackles of "the perfect wife." I endured. I yielded. I bent over backward to keep the peace. Even when my husband banished me to the back row on our anniversary. Even when I watched him fawn over another woman right in front of me—I stayed silent.
I wanted to break free. I just didn't know how.
Then the yacht swayed, and my arm brushed against Theodore Sinclair.
He didn't pull away.
Neither did I.
When his fingers found mine beneath the blanket... when his voice dropped low against my ear and murmured, *"When we reach shore, I'll give you exactly what you want"*—
I was lost.
They say a woman who strays has no shame.
But when his lips met mine, I couldn't help wondering:
*Is this it? Is this where my new life finally begins?*
